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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 


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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 


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('aught by the Rain 


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TANGLES AND CORNERS 


IN 


KEZZIE DRISCOLL’S LIFE 



KATE W« 




A MILTON- 


IwV 



PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION 
1334 CHESTNUT STREET 







COPYRIGHT, 1882, BY 

THE TRUSTEES OF THE 

PRESBYTERIAN BOARD OF PUBLICATION. 


ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. 



Wbstcott & Thomson, 
Stereotypers and Electrotypers, Philada. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I. 

FAGB 


** A Certain Man drew a Bow at a Venture ”... 5 

CHAPTER II. 

Where the Arrow Rankled 33 

CHAPTER III. 

In the “Amen Corner” 57 

CHAPTER IV. 

Sharp Corners in People and Circumstances .... 82 


CHAPTER V. 

What Waited around the Curve 106 

CHAPTER VI. 

A Quiet Fireside Corner 130 

CHAPTER VII. 

Two Sides of a Question 147 


3 


4 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

PAGE 

Neglected Corners i68 

CHAPTER IX. 

A Little Leaven 190 

CHAPTER X. 

Outside Tangles 21 1 

CHAPTER XI. 

A New Home and an Old Friend 236 

CHAPTER XH. 

Keeping a Promise 261 

CHAPTER XIII. 

A Long, Bright Day 280 

CHAPTER XIV. 

At Sunset 305 

CHAPTER XV. 

When Lottie is a Little Older 323 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


CHAPTER I. 

CERTAIN MAN DREW A BOW AT A 
VENTURED 

DARK cloud which had swept up 



/-V swiftly over the sunny sky one Sab- 
bath afternoon changed suddenly from 
threatening to fulfillment, and the first 
drops of a summer shower began to pat- 
ter on roofs and pavements. 

Three young girls walking up the street 
quickened their steps with exclamations 
of dismay half mock, half real. 

“ Hurry, girls, hurry ! It really is going 
to rain hard.” 

Dear me, Kezzie ! if you should get 
that dress wet the very first time you wear 
it! Just think of it!” 

“ Put up your parasols, girls ; they’re 


6 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


better than nothing. Why don’t you 
run ?” 

Thicker and faster came the raindrops. 
The girls abandoned the idea of reaching 
home. A church door stood invitingly 
open, and they ran up the steps and 
sought shelter in the vestibule. Flushed, 
panting and laughing from their enforced 
race, they stood there shaking down the 
delicate dresses and straightening ruffles, 
ribbons and wind-tossed tresses. Three 
pretty bits of sparkle and color — bright, 
gay, fluttering butterflies — were they any- 
thing more ? 

“ Did anybody ever see such a trio of 
simpletons ? To think of our walking so 
far and never once looking at the sky !” 
giggled one. 

“ How it does pour!” exclaimed another. 

“There is an old deacon out at grandpa’s 
who is always talking about being ‘under 
the drippings of the sanctuary,’ but I 
think — ” 

Droppings,’ ” corrected a third voice. 

“ Hush, Fan ! They’ll hear you inside.” 
Don’t talk so.” 


A BOW DRAWN AT A VENTURE. 7 

“ What are they doing in there, any 
way?” questioned the first voice, slightly 
lowered. — “What is it, Kezzie?” 

Kezzie stood near a door leading into 
the room beyond. She bent her head a 
moment to listen, but caught only a sound 
of reading. 

“It’s Sunday-school; though, of course, 
what else could it be at this hour of the 
afternoon ?” she answered. “ Suppose we 
go in ? We can’t go home in this shower, 
and it looks awkward to be standing out 
here. Besides, we can get seats if we go 
in.” 

“That last is an inducement,” said Fan- 
nie. 

They took another survey of the sky as 
far as it was possible to do so through the 
fast-falling rain, and assured one another 
that they should not be able to get away 
for half an hour at least. Then, after a 
little more laughing and arguing about who 
should go first, Kezzie whispered an im- 
perative “ Hush !” and, opening the door, 
led the way, while the others followed. 
There was a slight rustling and turning 


8 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


of heads at the rather late arrival, but 
the girls slipped into a seat not far from 
the door and settled themselves comfort- 
ably. The superintendent glanced toward 
them. 

“ He thinks we are dreadfully good, to 
visit his school this rainy afternoon,” whis- 
pered Fannie. “ He hasn’t the least idea 
we came only because we couldn’t help 
ourselves, and that our valuable presence 
is merely an accident.” 

He might, perhaps, have called it by an- 
other name than that even had he known 
the circumstances ; but his gaze was a re- 
flective one and bent upon Kezzie, with 
whom he was slightly acquainted, if a brief 
introduction at one time and a bow of rec- 
ognition at sundry other times can be said 
to constitute an acquaintance. He knew, 
moreover, that she was the dauorhter of 
Cyrus Driscoll, manager and part-owner 
of the Ontario Works, and that the family 
attended an up-town church, not his own. 
That was all he knew of the young lady, 
but he was wondering if she could help 
him. He needed help that day, for the 


A BOW DRAWN AT A VENTURE. g 

summer vacation had taken many of his 
teachers out of town, and the threatening 
rain-cloud had kept a few others at home. 

“ Hush !” whispered Kezzie again. I 
know him — at least, I have met him some- 
where — but I didn’t know that he belonged 
here.” 

The gentleman approached, greeted Kez- 
zie, and she introduced her friends. He ex- 
pressed pleasure at their presence — briefly, 
indeed, but cordially enough — and Fannie 
nudged her companions to remind them of 
her words. By the time that her elbows 
were at rest again he was asking assist- 
ance : “Would not one of the ladies aid 
him by taking the place of an absent teach- 
er?” He accepted the murmur of declina- 
tion from the two — he had expected only 
that — but his glance rested more urgently 
upon Kezzie. 

“ Cannot you take that class of girls, 
Miss Driscoll ? We really do need help 
to-day, and you know what the work is 
and how well worth the doing,” he said, 
earnestly. 

She did not want to do it, but then — 


10 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


She glanced at the seat designated and 
saw a group of girls younger than her- 
self and very plainly dressed ; of course 
she could teach them. Besides, it was a 
good work — quite the proper thing to do 
on Sunday. So she arose and followed 
her guide up the aisle, with a trifle of em- 
barrassment at the novelty of the situa- 
tion, but with a comfortable feeling of hav- 
ing sacrificed inclination to duty, and also 
with a pleasant consciousness that she was 
looking very pretty and stylish in her new 
summer silk, and experiencing, withal, a 
little spice of mischievous delight at sur- 
prising her two companions. 

The superintendent with a pleasant word 
or two introduced her to the class, and de- 
parted well satisfied at having secured a 
teacher. He was not a man who held 
lightly the responsibilities of his office ; he 
would have been shocked at the thought 
of performing its duties carelessly; and 
yet, for anything he really knew of the 
young lady, she might have been a Mo- 
hammedan or an atheist in her belief — or 
uifl^elief — with skill and will to use the 


A BOW DRAWN AT A VENTURE. 


II 


half hour in winning others to her opin- 
ion. 

Kezzie Driscoll did not doubt her own 
fitness for the place, however, and she felt 
a trifle resentful because the laugh of her 
two friends had seemed to express a doubt 
on their part. She thought she knew ex- 
actly what to do. Not that she had any 
idea of the lesson beyond the fact that 
it must be somewhere in the Bible, but 
she was a member of that up-town Sun- 
day-school — that is, her name was one of 
a large number in the class-book of a cer- 
tain teacher, and she attended the school 
service when the weather was pleasant 
and there was nothing else that she par- 
ticularly wanted to do. So, of course, she 
knew enough of the routine to teach this 
class of girls. 

The opening exercises were already over, 
and the members of the class were able to 
direct her to the subject for study. She found 
it and turned toward them, her face grow- 
ing sweet and grave. 

“ ‘ Remember the sabbath day to keep 
it holy.’ That is one of God’s commands,” 


12 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


she said. “ Can any of you tell me where 
it was given ? and to whom ?’' 

The answer came promptly enough, al- 
most with a dash of impatience : 

“To Moses, on the mount.” 

Then the speaker, a black-eyed girl, fol- 
lowed it instantly by a question that struck 
from externals to the heart of the mat- 
ter : 

“ What does it mean by keeping the day 
holy?” 

“Why — ” Kezzie hesitated. “Sunday 
isn’t just like any other day, you know.” 

“ No ; at least, it oughtn’t to be. But 
just how ought it to be different? What 
does it mean by keeping it holy?” 

Now, in all her life Kezzie Driscoll had 
never thoughtfully asked herself that ques- 
tion, and she was scarcely prepared to an- 
swer it for another. She looked at the 
speaker and then at the book in her hand, 
and pondered a moment. Her eyes wan- 
dered down the page and brightened. 

“Let us read the rest of it,” she sug- 
gested. 

“ ‘ Six days shalt thou labor and do all 


A BOW DBA WAT AT A VEA^TUBE. 1 3 

thy work, but the seventh day is the sab- 
bath of the Lord thy God ; in it thou shalt 
not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy 
daughter, thy man-servant, nor thy maid- 
servant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger 
that is within thy gates. For in six days the 
Lord made heaven and earth, the sea and 
all that in them is, and rested the seventh 
day : wherefore the Lord blessed the sab- 
bath day and hallowed it.’ ” 

“ There ! that is it. It is to be a day of 
rest, you see.” 

Kezzie’s tone was one of satisfaction ; but 
a plain little girl at the end of the seat 
remarked : 

It can’t really mean 'not any work,’ can 
it? Jesus, you know, said it was lawful to do 
good on that day, and the Catechism tells 
about ' works of necessity and mercy.’ ” 
"Besides, there are so many kinds of 
rest,” interposed Black-eyes. "Some peo- 
ple think it is doing nothing at all; and 
there’s a family of Germans near us who 
call it resting to go to the beer-garden all 
day. — Of course I don’t think the com- 
mandment means anything like that,” she 


14 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

added, catching Miss Driscoll’s glance of 
surprise ; “ but I’d like to know what real- 
ly is meant by keeping the day holy. If 
some work is necessary and right, what 
is it ? and what sort of work is wrong ? 
And what kind of rest does it mean ?” 

Kezzie became suddenly conscious that 
she had ventured into waters too deep for 
her. She was perplexed, but she was 
honest. 

“I’m afraid I can’t tell you all you want 
to know about it ; I haven’t thought about 
it myself as I ought,” she answered, flush- 
ing a little. “ Only, there are some things 
that we can very easily see are right for 
that day, and other things that must be 
wrong.” 

“ But they are not the things that trouble 
me — those that are right or wrong in them- 
selves,” said her questioner. “ It’s those 
that are right for other days, and not for 
Sunday ; and those that seem right for 
some people and under some circumstances, 
and are wrong for others. Everybody’s 
duty doesn’t seem to be the same duty even 
in keeping the Sabbath ; and it’s that which 


A BOW DRAWN AT A VENTURE. 1$ 

gets me all into a tangle. Of course, when 
God gives a command, he means something 
by it.” 

“ Miss Driscoll, what do you suppose 
Christ meant when he said, ‘ The sabbath 
was made for man, and not man for the 
sabbath?” asked the plain little girl once 
more. 

The words were familiar, but Kezzie could 
not place them in their proper connection 
of time or circumstances. 

“Let us read about it,” she said; and 
the narrative threw light upon the subject — 
for her, at least. “I think he must have 
meant that it wasn’t made for a bondage 
— just a hard rule — but that it was given 
for our real welfare and comfort,” she re- 
marked, thoughtfully. 

“ The commandment says, ' Six days shalt 
thou labor.’ Don’t that make it just as much 
a duty to have some good useful work to do 
through the week as it does to rest on Sun- 
day ?” questioned another voice. 

So it went. Two or three command- 
ments were included in that lesson ; but, 
whatever other classes did, Kezzie’s did 


l6 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

not get beyond that one. She scarcely 
knew whether to be glad or sorry when 
the bell rang and ended the conversa- 
tion. 

“When God gives a commandment he 
means something by it,” truly ; but she 
had not been able to tell that eager girl 
what it meant or to help her in straighten- 
ing out any of the “tangles.” 

“One more day’s work for Jesus” sang 
the school ; but, whatever of sweetness 
that thought might have held for the teach- 
ers around her, it brought no comfort to 
Kezzie. She was far from being sure that 
her work was for him, and it was with a 
somewhat troubled heart that she listened 
to the singing and the closing words. There 
seemed something in all this that was be- 
yond her; and yet it ought to be hers, 
for she was a member of that up-town 
church. 

There had been a time while she was 
away at boarding-school — she remembered 
it well — when the whole institution had 
seemed to wear a thoughtful, anxious look ; 
when a strange influence had pervaded the 


A BOW DBA WAT AT A VENTURE. 1 / 

school, and all had yielded more or less to 
its power. There had been many meetings, 
fervid sermons and earnest broken prayers. 
The fashionable seminary had not been 
wholly in sympathy with the religious move- 
ment in the neighborhood, and had not act- 
ively aided or encouraged it, but neither 
did it oppose it; and when the interest, 
deepening and widening, swept through 
the school itself, principal and managers 
were at least gravely respectful. Kezzie's 
spirit had felt the trouble that brooded over 
others. She too had been disturbed and 
burdened, had listened to counsels and en- 
treaties in a strange unanalyzed tumult of 
feeling, had shed some tears and whispered 
some confessions, and had hoped she was 
“ converted,” with no very clear idea of 
what the word meant. They told her she 
was ; she seemed to herself to have passed 
through the same experience that others 
described, and, of course, it must have 
wrought the same results. 

She judged by that, poor ignorant, child- 
ish heart ! She supposed people must go 
through a certain course to become Chris- 
2 


1 8 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

tians, just as they must go through a cer- 
tain prescribed course to become gradu- 
ates. She had felt unhappy, and she began 
to feel better; which must mean that her 
burden had rolled away as did Christian’s 
in Pilgrim's Progress, She wrote home, 
as the other girls did, for permission to 
unite with the church, and consent was 
given — not gladly or sympathizingly, but 
only rather wonderingly. Then, one bright 
morning, she stood with others before the 
altar and took upon herself some very sol- 
emn vows, though she was too much awed, 
flustered and frightened distinctly to under- 
stand at the time what was said to her or 
what she promised, and her clearest re- 
membrance afterward was of how her 
hand trembled when she pushed back her 
hat to receive the baptismal water on her 
brow. 

We do not write mockingly. Amid even 
such stumbling, blindness and weakness the 
life begins in many a soul as it did in Kez- 
zie Driscoll’s. It was a mere glimmering 
spark, but He who does not quench even 
the smoking flax watched it. She ‘‘real- 


A BOW DBA WAT AT A VENTURE. I9 

ly meant to be good,” Kezzie whispered to 
herself sincerely. She prayed instead of 
only saying prayers, as she had been ac- 
customed to do. She made good resolu- 
dons about reading her Bible every day, 
and attempted to read Baxter’s Saint's Rest 
and Doddridge’s Rise and Progress ; she 
felt as if she ought to like them, but she 
could not, and finally gave up the effort. 
She did not enjoy the prayer-meetings very 
much, either, after a little while, but she 
shrank from confessing that even to her- 
self, and instead found a good many rea- 
sons for not attending them. 

After a time the manifestations of deep 
feeling subsided. In the school other in- 
terests crowded in and apparently became 
paramount. Subjects of which it had once 
been easy to speak were seldom mentioned. 
When Kezzie’s senior year came, when ex- 
aminations and standing grew to be mat- 
ters of great importance, and as the gradu- 
ating-day drew near, essays and dresses were 
the feverishly-absorbing topics. So in a lit- 
tle whirl of excitement her school-days end- 
ed, and she found herself at home again — 


20 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


“a full-fledged young lady,” as her brother 
Sydney greeted her. They seemed to have 
forgotten there that little episode in her 
school-life of a year and a half before — 
at least, no one mentioned it. She drifted 
naturally, without any particular thought or 
choice in the matter, into the up- town church 
which her family usually attended. They 
had removed to the city just before she 
went away to school ; so there were no 
early associations to claim her. 

She did not feel as she had felt in those 
remembered days at school. That thought 
troubled Kezzie a little sometimes, but she 
supposed it was so with every one, she said 
to herself with a sigh. People could not 
always have just the same feelings, but she 
believed now just what she had believed 
then, and she should never forget that ex- 
perience ; it had made her different, of course 
— a Christian : that was why she had united 
with the church. That “of course” had 
been allowed to settle a great deal for 
Kezzie, while her life drifted on thought- 
lessly. But this Sunday-school class and 
its lesson had awakened troublesome voices 


A BOW DRAWN AT A VENTURE. 


21 


that she could not hush through all the clos- 
ing exercises. 

A consciousness of something wanting, 
something wrong, oppressed her. It was 
vague, but she could not shake it off. Per- 
haps, after all, it had begun a little farther 
back than this class. The laugh of her 
companions had held a scarcely-recognized 
sting. They were gay, careless girls with 
seemingly no thought for any of these 
things, but did they think she was exactly 
like themselves ? They might well have 
been pardoned, so far as her life had been 
any evidence, for thinking just that ; but 
Kezzie had not realized it. They ought to 
have known a difference, a faint voice in 
her soul kept murmuring with curious per- 
sistency, as if the fault had been hers. And 
why had she neither knowledge, opinions 
nor thoughts to offer in answer to the ques- 
tions that had just been asked? So the 
troubled current ran through her musings 
while she sat there listening to the sing- 
ing of the school. 

Usually, Kezzie noticed only the music, 
but to-day she heard the words. They 


22 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


were wonderfully distinct in their incom- 
prehensible rapture : 


“ One more day’s work for Jesus ! 

How glorious is my King ! 

’Tis joy, not duty, 

To speak his beauty ; 

My soul mounts on the wing 
At the mere thought 
How Christ her life hath bought.” 


No, she did not know anything of 
that. 

Presently the brief closing prayer ceas- 
ed ; there was a rustling of dresses and 
papers, a gathering up of books, a hum 
of voices, and in a minute or two Kezzie 
was once more in the vestibule, where 
her two friends were awaiting her. 

Fannie’s gay voice began again the in- 
stant they were fairly out : 

“ Kezzie Driscoll, you abominable crea- 
ture ! what possessed you to coax us in 
there and then go off and take that class, 
so that we couldn’t slip out again when it 
stopped raining?” 

“Never mind; she has had the worst of 
it, judging from her face,” laughed Sue. 


A BOW DRAWN AT A VENTURE. 23 

“What in the world did you find to talk 
about?” 

“The lesson,” replied Kezzie, shortly. 

“Dear me! You look as if it hadn’t 
agreed with you. What was it about?” 

“Keeping the Sabbath,” Kezzie admitted, 
hesitatingly. 

A giggle followed this announcement. 

“ Fd like to have heard you discoursing 
on that. Did you tell them that the proper 
thing was to take a long walk after church, 
get caught in a shower, and run into a Sun- 
day-school to save your new silk?” 

Kezzie flushed with a mingling of pain 
and resentment. 

“ I don’t see anything ridiculous in a 
Bible lesson, or anything to make fun of. 
I wish you girls wouldn’t talk in that way,” 
she said — somewhat shortly, it must be con- 
fessed. 

Fan turned toward her a face of comical 
consternation, under which there was a touch 
of real surprise: 

“ Did I ever I She has all the awful dig- 
nity of a teacher already. — Do be solemn, 
Sue, or she won’t let us walk with her.” 


24 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

“ Don’t be cross, Kezzie ; that’s not the 
proper thing for a teacher,” cried Sue. 
“If you got into an uncomfortable place, 
you needn’t blame us ; you would go. I 
presume those girls studied the way your 
hair is dressed, if they didn’t study any- 
thing else. It’s in such a fluff after run- 
ning through the wind. — Oh, see how those 
drops glisten on the trees ! Isn’t it lovely 
since the rain ?” 

Kezzie smiled with a forced brightness, 
and was relieved that the conversation had 
changed. Yet why had the talk jarred so? 
for its tone did not differ from that of many 
another talk in which she had laughingly 
joined. There was nothing unusual about 
it except her own discomfort. That she 
could not shake off ; and when she had 
parted with the girls at the gate, she pass- 
ed with a slow step up the broad walk to 
the large handsome house. She was bare- 
ly in time for the late dinner, and hastened 
to her place. 

It was a well-filled, handsomely-appointed 
table — a well-surrounded one, also, for the 
family had assembled. Mr. Driscoll, with 


A BOW DRAWN AT A VENTURE. 2$ 

care-lined, preoccupied face ; Celia, ele- 
gant and languid ; Tom, elaborate in attire 
and self-complacent in manner; merry, good- 
natured Sydney and the younger children, — 
all were present. Mrs. Driscoll was an in- 
valid, and seldom left her own room except 
for an airing in the most luxurious of car- 
riages, but Aunt Nene, Mr. Driscoll’s half- 
sister, presided over the table in a homely, 
unobtrusive fashion, just as she had for years 
practically managed the affairs of the house- 
hold. She was the strong right hand of the 
establishment, but the family were some- 
times in danger of forgetting that the skill- 
ful hand was connected with a head or a 
heart. 

The home-group and the table-talk — 
which, indeed, was not very enlivening — 
did not banish the cloud that had so un- 
accountably to herself settled over Kezzie’s 
spirit. In answer to some comment on her 
late appearance she told where she had 
been, and almost before she was aware 
she found herself telling of that class and 
their questions. 

“ They wanted to know what was the 


26 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

right use of the day ; and really I didn’t 
know what to tell them,” she concluded, 
suddenly. 

“ I should suppose not,” laughed Tom, 
in his patronizing way. “ It’s rather an 
extensive subject to be disposed of in 
one half hour by a small morsel like your- 
self.” 

“You might have more information to 
give others if you spent the day more 
profitably yourself,” commented Celia, loft- 
ily. 

“By running around to so many meet- 
ings on Sunday that you are tired, cross 
and good for nothing on Monday,” sug- 
gested Sydney. • 

Kezzie’s eyes opened wide. It had nfev- 
er before occurred to her that Celia disap- 
proved of her way of spending the day. 
Celia did go to a good many meetings, 
but then she was interested in so many 
societies and literary and scientific circles 
that Kezzie had never thought of her Sun- 
day engagements except as a part of her 
whole round of occupations.. 

Celia had never asked her to go with 


A BOW DRAWN AT A VENTURE. 2 / 

her. She was following this thought so 
earnestly that she did not notice that Tom 
was speaking. He was carelessly balan- 
cing a spoon on the white finger decorated 
with a large seal-ring, and was looking at 
Kezzie with the indulgent air of one quite 
capable of solving all knotty points, and 
condescending, though amused at their 
weakness, to help others out of their per- 
plexities. 

“ So, you see. Sis,” were the first words 
she caught, “ that it is principally useful as 
a day of rest and recreation — not to be 
made a harder, more rigorous day than 
all the rest by imprisoning people in-doors 
with a round of duties and ceremonies, but 
to be used as a day of freedom and enjoy- 
ment; a time to get out into the air and 
sunshine, and find pleasure for mind and 
body. That’s my idea; that’s the sort of 
rest we need after the wearisome toils of 
the week.” 

“Tom knows. His ‘toils of the week’ 
are immense,” again interpolated mischiev- 
ous Sydney. 

Mr. Driscoll frowned. No one had 


28 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


thought of his noticing the conversation, 
but his gray eyebrows were uplifted satiric- 
ally at Tom’s remark : 

“ It’s a sort of rest that extends a long 
way into the week, sir, so far as you are 
concerned ; and it is a style of refreshing 
mind and body that will soon leave neither 
of them of any value to the world. A 
great many of the mill-men have the same 
idea as yours, though they have to content 
themselves with coarser and less expensive 
ways of carrying it out. They cannot have 
the sails and drives, fast horses and high 
suppers, but they can hang around beer- 
gardens and bring about the same result. 
It is this that makes me think McIntyre is 
right, and that laws closing shops and facto- 
ries on Sunday are no blessing to the work- 
ing-man. He had far better spend the day 
in honest work, earning something for his 
family, than in w'asting the earnings of the 
other days and making himself unfit to be- 
gin work on Monday.” 

Aunt Nene pursed her lips grimly, but 
said nothing. Tom’s face flushed and his 
eyes flashed. He finished his dinner in 


A BOW DRAWN AT A VENTURE. 29 

angry haste and left the table and, soon after, 
the house. 

An uncomfortable silence fell upon the 
party. Everybody knew that Tom’s habits 
and conduct were far from satisfactory to his 
father, but the father was not wont so 
openly to express his disapprobation. 

Kezzie keenly regretted having broached 
the unfortunate topic. She had gained only 
the additional pain of this scene, and Celia’s 
glance seemed to say she should have known 
better. How many discordant notes there 
were to-day ! She walked away to a dis- 
tant window and stood drearily thinking of 
it. There was something wrong in her life 
and in her home. They needed rebuilding, 
somehow, somewhere ; but what could she 
do ? Sydney found her there, and coaxed 
her out into the garden. The sun had 
nearly dried the grass — the walks, at least — 
he said, and it was pleasanter out of doors 
than in. 

They were in an arbor fronting the road 
when Mr. Driscoll passed through the gate 
and took his way toward the mill. The On- 
tario Works were ostensibly stopped on 


30 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

Sunday ; there was no full running of 
machinery and doors were closed. The 
McIntyre brothers, partners with Mr. Dris- 
coll, though residing at a distance, had 
complained of the laws and customs which 
made this necessary, and had insisted that 
the day should at least be utilized by 
crowding into it all repairs, cleaning of 
boilers, changing of machinery, and the like. 
Mr. Driscoll could remember an old-fash- 
ioned home where the Sabbath was held in 
different esteem, and it might have been in 
part to silence old memories that he, having 
yielded to his partners, had since been so 
ready to discover good reasons for their 
opinion. However that was, “ repairs ” in 
the Ontario Works had grown into a term 
that covered a great deal. Often a score 
of men were busied there on Sunday, and 
those who chose could usually find some 
employment ; while Mr. Driscoll, feeling the 
necessity of looking after them a little, 
frequently spent an hour or two of the 
afternoon in glancing over letters and 
papers in his office. It was for this pur- 
pose that he now went to the mill. 


A BOW DBA WAT AT A VENTURE. 3 1 

Kezzie watched his departure with trou- 
bled eyes. 

“I wonder if it is wrong?” she said. 

“What?” Sydney looked at her with 
astonished eyes. “ Oh ! to have any work 
going on at the mill to-day, do you mean ? 
And for father to go there ? I don’t know ; 
only there are a great ihany things that are 
worse.” 

“That doesn’t make it right.” 

“ No ; but it is of no use for us to think 
about it or to try to decide it, for it isn’t 
anything that we can help or hinder in 
any way.” 

“ That is the trouble,” she answered, 
sadly. “ I wish we could make all the 
crooked things straight. Oh dear ! I’d 
like to be good if only I knew how. I do 
really want to be.” 

“Well, you’re a great deal better now 
than Celia, with all her meetings — more 
obliging and ready to do things for a fel- 
low, and nicer every way. You are good 
enough for me, Kezzie.” 

Words and tone were pleasant. She 
half forgot her unrest while they were 


32 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

together, but it awoke again when she 
was alone. 

“ Oh dear !” she sighed as she laid aside 
the pretty dress at night and remembered 
how gayly she had donned it in the morn- 
ing. “ There are so many sudden corners ! 
Why is it that when I am satisfied and 
everything ahead looks straight, I must 
always come to a corner — a place to 
turn or choose ?” 


CHAPTER II. 

WHERE THE ARROW RANKLED. 

HE morning sunlight shone in through 



X the pretty window-draperies, danced 
across the dressing-table with its dainty 
trifles, and made golden pictures on the 
pale-blue wall beyond. 

Kezzie opened her eyes dreamily, and 
lay for a moment enjoying the beauty and 
the brightness. Then a dull pain stole 
through it all — the remembered shadow 
of yesterday. 

“Well,” she said, clasping her hands on 
the pillow above her head and slowly fa- 
cing the troublesome thought that seemed 
to have kept vigil at her bedside all night 
for the express purpose of greeting her 
in the morning, “ I can’t help everything. 
It’s as Syd says ; I really can’t do anything 
about the mill and Tom, and all that, even 


3 


34 


TANGLES AND CORNETS. 


if things are wrong. Oh dear!” with a 
little sigh; “ Fm afraid they are. But I 
suppose I myself might do better. I ought 
to be more careful when Fm with the girls 
and about a good many things, and I have 
not remembered and felt about it just as I 
thought I always should that time at school. 
Dear me ! it’s hard to keep right straight 
along. I will try to be good after this, 
though. I mean to begin again, and do 
just as nearly right about everything as I 
can.” 

As the next thing to having anything in 
fact is to persuade ourselves that we have 
it in prospect, Kezzie derived considerable 
solace from her determination. As she was 
brushing out her hair her eyes fell upon her 
Bible. That was one of the things that must 
receive more attention. In those days at 
school to which her memory had reverted 
she had resolved to read a chapter daily. 
She had adhered to her resolution, for the 
most part by means of reading very hur- 
riedly sometimes and by a very liberal use 
of the Psalms, selecting the shortest when, 
as frequently happened, the exercise was 


WHERE THE ARROW RANKLED. 35 

crowded into the last minutes of the day 
and she was particularly tired or sleepy. 
Reading the Bible meant more than that, 
she knew. 

“ It’s too careless a way ; I won’t do it 
so any more. Of course one ought to read 
and — meditate.” The last word was spoken 
hesitatingly. She was a little doubtful what 
it might imply, what uncomfortable experi- 
ences might lurk under it. 

Then she began to wonder what Celia 
had really meant by what she said yester- 
day. Kezzie considered Celia a very su- 
perior person — chiefly because Celia con- 
sidered herself so — but in many respects 
she was not intimately acquainted with her 
half-sister. Celia was her senior by several 
years, and had been away at school while 
Kezzie was a little girl at home. Soon 
after her return Kezzie herself had been 
sent away, and in later years Celia had 
spent most of her time with her own 
mother’s relatives in a distant city. She 
quoted their usages and maxims impress- 
ively as precedent and rule quite sufficient 
to decide any question in her father’s less- 


36 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

favored household. Altogether, Kezzie’s sis- 
terly feeling had been principally a wonder- 
ing but rather distant admiration. Celia 
was versed in so many abstruse matters 
of which she was ignorant that it had nev- 
er occurred to her that she could share 
any of her occupations; but now she de- 
termined to ask her about some of those 
“ meetings ” of which Syd spoke so slight- 
ingly. 

Kezzie^found her father already at the 
breakfast-table ; the other members of the 
family gathered more slowly. Tom was 
not there ; he had not returned since he 
went out the day before. Mr. Driscoll 
ate rapidly, but not with an air of enjoy- 
ing, of noticing, what he ate. The lines 
in his forehead were deeper than usual : 
the vacant place at the table accounted, in 
part, for that. 

“Is there any particular hurry this morn- 
ing, father ? Anything wrong at the mill ?’* 
Kezzie ventured to inquire as he hastily 
arose. 

“ No. Some repairing must be looked 
after early, as old Simms is so exceedingly 


WHERE THE ARROW RANKLED. 37 

scrupulous that he wouldn’t do it yesterday, 
I presume. And I shall have Tom’s work 
to attend to to-day, as well as my own, that 
is all,” he answered. The words were 
stern and cold enough, but there was some- 
thing deeper than displeasure in the tone. 

“ Oh, I do wish Tom wouldn’t do so !” 
sighed Kezzie as the door closed behind 
her father. 

Celia stirred her coffee reflectively. 

‘‘Probably he will settle down to more 
steady and rational habits after a while,” 
she remarked. “I believe such faults are 
greatly the result of imperfect home educa- 
tion. The modern fathers bestow too little 
time and companionship upon their fami- 
lies, they are so entirely engrossed in bus- 
iness.” 

“ Have to be, to support the modern 
daughters,” commented Syd, with a glance 
at Celia’s rich morning-dress. 

Celia did not hear — she had a lofty way 
of ignoring a great many things — and 
sipped her coffee undisturbed. But Kez- 
zie cast a half-deprecatory, half-reproachful 
look at the speaker, which only excited his 


38 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

mirth, and the younger ones laughed also, 
without knowing why. 

“Will you take your mother’s breakfast 
to her room, Kezzie ?” asked Aunt Nene 
as they arose from the table. “ It’s wash- 
morning, and everybody is busy down 
stairs.” 

Celia did not hear that remark, either, or 
did not consider that it concerned her. She 
seated herself composedly by the window 
and took up the morning paper. Kezzie 
lifted the little tray Aunt Nene had pre- 
pared and departed on her mission — if not 
unwillingly, at least not with alacrity. The 
atmosphere of the sick-room was heavy 
with camphor and aromatic vinegar, and 
seemed oppressive to one fresh from the 
pure morning air. Its occupant looked lan- 
guid and unrefreshed. 

“ I wish I could do something to help you, 
mother,” Kezzie said, in response to the 
information that she had passed a weary 
night. 

“You cannot, child; no one can. I’ve 
told you that a hundred times.” 

So many times, indeed, that the girl 


WHERE THE ARROW RANKLED. 39 

scarcely noticed its repetition now. She 
changed pillows from lounge to chair, me- 
chanically arranged foot-stool and tray, and 
asked and answered questions with more 
' than half her mind elsewhere. She was 
not unfeeling, but she was accustomed to 
seeing her mother just as she was now, and 
had long ago accepted, as had the whole 
household, the statement that “ nobody 
could help it.” Besides, though a constant 
invalid, Mrs. Driscoll was not usually a 
great sufferer. “ I should be in my grave 
if I did not take the best possible care of 
m^^self,” she was wont to say ; and that one 
care had grown so engrossing that it seemed 
to have excluded most others. She gener- 
ally preferred the attendance of her nurse 
to that of her family : “Jane knows exactly 
what to do and how to do it so the others 
paid their regular — or irregular — visits of 
inquiry, saw that she lacked nothing, that 
her bell was always answered the moment 
it rang, and that some one was ready to 
accompany her whenever she wished to 
drive. Beyond that, Mrs. Driscoll was 
scarcely more of a factor in the family 


40 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

plans and pursuits than if she had been 
really in that grave which she congratulated 
her own prudence upon escaping. There- 
fore, Kezzie had no thought of having done 
less than her whole duty when, the break- 
fast partaken of and her mother comfort- 
ably established upon the lounge, she took 
her departure and drew a breath of relief 
as she closed the door. 

A sore spot in the conscience, like a sore 
hand or a sore foot, is constantly coming 
in contact with something that hurts and 
irritates. Kezzie had tried to bury all 
yesterday’s troublesome questions under 
her resolution of this morning, but it was 
strange how many times during the day 
something recalled that one topic. 

Fannie Lancey ran over to borrow an 
embroidery pattern. She could not stay 
a minute ; nevertheless, she stopped in the 
doorway to laugh at Kezzie : 

“Have you again reached the ordinary 
level ?” 

Then she favored Celia and Sidney with a 
purposely exaggerated account of their Sun- 
day’s adventure and Kezzie’s part therein. 


WHERE THE ARROW RANKLED. 4I 

“Actually coaxed us in there, and then 
turned missionary herself — went to teach- 
ing as if it were the most natural thing in 
the world ! Sue and I watched her, for we 
had an idea that any shafts she aimed at 
those young damsels would prove a sort 
of moral boomerang.— Is that the elegant 
name of it, Sydney ? — that weapon used by 
the Australians, or some other heathen, 
that, wherever it is thrown, always comes 
back to the one who hurls it? But, dear 
me ! when we came out and began to ques- 
tion her, she put on the most teachery air 
imaginable, and requested us to talk prop- 
erly of such subjects. She seemed quite 
infatuated with her new vocation, but I 
don’t know whether she went on a teaching- 
tour the rest of the day. — Did you, Kezzie ?” 

“ Of course not,” answered Kezzie, half 
laughing, yet a little stiffly. 

“Well, I couldn’t follow her around any 
farther,” pursued the careless Fannie ; “ I 
had to stay at home all the afternoon and 
help can raspberries. — Oh, you needn’t look 
so horrified, my dear,” to Kezzie. “ They 
were sent in too late to do on Saturday, 


42 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

and they wouldn’t keep until Monday; so 
it was a work of necessity, you see.” 

“ It isn’t exactly a work of necessity for 
her father to go around and buy fruit late 
Saturday night just because he and the 
dealers both know it won’t keep and he can 
get it cheap then ; and that’s what he does,” 
laughed Sydney as soon as the door had 
closed upon the visitor. “ Call things by 
their right names, I say.” Upon the right 
or wrong of the matter itself he apparently 
bestowed no thought. 

Kezzie could not laugh. How crooked 
and twisted it all seemed ! And then came 
back that black-eyed girl’s irrefutable state- 
ment : “ Of course, when God gives a 

command, he means something by it.” 

“A moral boomerang indeed !” murmured 
Kezzie as she slowly sought her own room 
for the Bible study she had promised. How 
should she make the girls understand that 
such things were not a mere joke to her? 
There certainly must have been something 
wrong in her past, or they could not have 
taken it for granted that she could be no 
more in earnest than themselves. 


WHERE THE ARROW RANKLED. 43 

She opened her Bible at random, and the 
reading and meditation ran somewhat on 
this wise : 

“ ‘ Wherefore have we fasted, say they, 
and thou seest not ?’ People don’t fast 
much nowadays. They used to do it in old 
times, I know. I wonder if old ways were 
better than these modern ones, as Celia 
says ? Oh dear ! I wonder where Tom is, 
and what all he is doing that vexes father 
so ? I’d be half afraid to know, though ; 
but I do wish he was different. Maybe it 
will all come right, as Celia says. Where 
was I ? Oh! ‘ Behold in the day of your fast 
ye find pleasure, and exact all your labors’ — 
There I I meant to have swept and dusted 
the back parlor for Aunt Nene before I 
came up stairs, but I forgot it. I’ll go right 
down now. No; I’d better not: she will 
have done it herself by this time. Besides, 
I promised to take time for this every day, 
and not to let other things crowd it out any 
more.” And so on through a number of 
verses. 

Suddenly her eyes rested upon the words: 
“ If thou turn away thy foot from the sab- 


44 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

bath, from doing thy pleasure on my holy 
day ; and call the sabbath a delight, the 
holy of the Lord, honorable ; and shalt 
honor him, not doing thine own ways, nor 
finding thine own pleasure, nor speaking 
thine own words : then shalt thou delight 
thyself in the Lord, and I will cause thee 
to ride upon the high places of the earth, 
and feed thee with the heritage of Jacob 
thy father : for the mouth of the Lord 
hath spoken it.” 

She closed the book then, and wished she 
could stop meditating. 

A resolution to do good in a general 
way, without any particular aim, is not a 
very satisfying possession ; and Kezzie could 
not find that this day was much more use- 
ful or happy than other days. The chil- 
dren came to her with their lessons, their 
school adventures and their games that 
needed her help, as usual. As Sydney 
had said, they always camp to her instead 
of to Celia ; she had not so many more 
important occupations that could not be 
sacrificed to a broken top or a tangled 
kite-string. She was nearly always ready 


WHERE THE ARROW RANKLED. 45 

for one of Sydney’s long rambles or a 
game of croquet with the boys and Lottie. 
This afternoon, when they found her on the 
piazza and clamored for a story, she sought 
out something edifying and fairly overload- 
ed it with moral. They looked astonished, 
but they listened because it was Kezzie and 
she was a favorite. Both Guy and Jimmie 
promptly informed her at its close, however, 
that they did not “ want any more of that 
kind;” they liked “something funnier.” 

Tom came home in the afternoon. He 
went to his own room, and then directly to 
the mill. Kezzie met him on the stairs. He 
stopped to ask her to mend his gloves, and 
she seized the opportunity to utter a trem- 
bling protest. She was not accustomed to 
question or interfere in any way with Tom’s 
plans and pleasures: 

“ Oh, Tom, I’m sorry you stayed away so 
long. Father wants you so at the mill.” 

He laughed carelessly: 

“ My dear chicken, you exaggerate my 
importance. I do not believe the Ontario 
Works would suspend business if I stayed 
away a week.” 


46 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

“ But father — began Kezzie. 

“ Father was a young fellow himself once, 
and liked a good time now and then as well 
as any one, Fve no doubt, if only he could 
remember it,” interrupted Tom, impatiently. 
“There! that will do, Kezzie. You are a 
good little Sis, but you mustn’t try to man- 
age matters that you don’t know anything 
about;” and he hurried away. 

It was not until evening that she found a 
quiet time in which to consult Celia. 

“Where do you go on Sunday, Sister 
Celia ? I mean what do you do, and 
all that?” she asked, with some timidity. 

Celia looked up from her book and pa- 
per. She did not bestow her leisure-hours 
upon tidies and toilet-cushions, as Kezzie 
sometimes did ; she was tracing the origin 
of the mythological account of the Muses, 
which, of course, was of far more value to 
the world. 

“Well, you know, I am connected with 
such a number of societies — secretary of this 
and vice-president of that — that I can’t do 
a great deal in any one of them. But on 
Sunday, of course, it ought to be religious 


WHERE THE ARROW RANKLED. 4 / 

work. There is the mission-school, the 
Woman’s Higher Education Society and 
the working-girls’ class. I go to all those, 
besides our own services.” 

» 

“Yes,” said Kezzie, more meekly still; 
“but what can I do ? You said if I spent 
my owii day more profitably, I might have 
known better what to tell others. What 
can I do ?” 

Celia looked at Kezzie doubtfully. If 
she had been one of those working-girls 
out of employment, she could have taken 
her name, questioned her antecedents and 
sent her to exactly the right lady-directress ; 
or if she had been a mission scholar in need, 
she would have known precisely how to 
have investigated, ticketed and followed out 
the proper programme; but this young sis- 
ter seeking a corner in the Master’s vine- 
yard perplexed her. It had been easy 
enough to condemn in a general way, but 
to direct her was a more difficult mat- 
ter. 

“I don’t know, Kezzie — I do not really 
know — what you can do,” she said, slowly, 
with a slight emphasis on the second pro- 


48 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

noun : she had little faith in Kezzie’s abili- 
ties. “ But you might go to the meetings 
and see. You ought to attend them, any 
way, even if you can’t do anything else to 
help them along,” she added, suddenly re- 
covering her assured tone. “ It is time you 
were taking an interest in something useful 
instead of living like a mere child, as you 
have done. I am glad you are becoming 
sensible of it.” 

Which closing remark excited a little nat- 
ural resentment on Kezzie’s part. Celia 
need not call her life so entirely useless. 
There were some who thought differently. 
In fact, upon a home vote, it would prob- 
ably be considered quite as valuable as 
Celia’s own. She did not feel inclined to 
go with Celia to be lectured and patronized. 
Altogether, there was a whirl of anxious 
and rebellious thoughts in the head that 
nestled upon its pillow that night. 

Nevertheless, Kezzie did go to the meet- 
ings. When the next week came, and Celia 
spoke of her attendance as something they 
had decided upon, she did not object even 
in thought. 


WHERE THE ARROW RANKLED. 49 

“ I do really want to do right — some 
way,” she said, wistfully, to herself. And 
it had been such a tangled week that 
the “some way” meant a great deal. 

First, there was the regular morning 
service, to which Kezzie listened more at- 
tentively than she had sometimes done. 
Then, as they again reached the street, 
Celia looked at her watch and found that it 
was so nearly time for the woman’s meeting 
that it was not worth while to go home; 
so they walked through several streets to 
the hall and waited a little for the people 
to gather. Kezzie heard earnest words 
and noble plans, and grew deeply interest- 
ed. She would have liked to ask more 
about it, but there really was no leisure 
for that when the session ended. They 
were obliged to hasten home to dinner, 
and immediately after that came the mis- 
sion-school. The working-girls’ class fol- 
lowed, and Kezzie went here and there, 
and listened to this address and that ex- 
ercise, and grew interested and sympa- 
thetic as one branch of work after an- 
other loomed up in new importance; and 
4 


50 TA angles and corners. 

finally she grew tired and bewildered. That 
was the predominant feeling when the day 
at last ended. 

Aunt Nene sat alone by an open window 
in the sitting-room, her hands crossed wea- 
rily in her lap. 

“Such a day as this has been !” she said. 
“Jane was away, and Tve had to be with 
your mother a good deal ; then the children, 
out of school and loose all day, with nobody 
around to tell them what to do or to amuse 
them, have just run wild. They fretted be- 
cause everybody was gone ; they wanted 
this and that, and they have romped and 
raced and quarreled until it was enough 
to drive one distracted. Somebody will 
need to start a mission school among them 
before long. I was thankful to get them 
off to bed.” 

A sudden pang of self-reproach smote 
Kezzie. But how could one do everything ? 
She went wearily up to her room^ and while 
she pulled the pins from her hair and let 
coil and braids fall free she opened her 
Bible upon the table before her. She had 
found no time to read it all day, except in 


WHERE THE ARROW RANKLED. 5 I 

those meetings with other people, and she 
went over a few verses now. But thoughts 
of the children and of Aunt Nene’s words 
ran between the lines and made them mean- 
ingless. 

The next morning found her unrefreshed, 
dispirited and very nearly cross. It was 
one of those days when there were many 
things to be done. Her share was not 
large enough to overtax a healthful young 
girl, certainly, but her day of rest had not 
left her fresh, in body or in mind, for the 
duties of the week. She was in no mood 
for them, nor for anything else. Jane was 
still away, and attendance upon Mrs. Dris- 
coll devolved upon others. 

It seemed to Kezzie that the children had 
never wanted so many things on any other 
Monday morning. Perhaps their day of 
rest had not left them, either, in the best 
possible frame of mind. They wanted 
books, slates and lunch-baskets in hot 
haste, and their tones soon kept pace with 
the sharpness discernible in Kezzie’s. She 
had them all to herself, for wash-morning 
always fully occupied the girls in the kitchen 


52 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

and Aunt Nene was busy in the invalid’s 
room. 

“ Jimmie, you must stop running up and 
down stairs so, and must quietly get what 
you want. Don’t begin, to-day as you did 
yesterday.” 

“Well, I don’t care if I did run and holler 
yesterday,” said Jimmie, belligerently. “You 
went off and didn’t tell us any stories, or 
read, or anything. I don’t think it’s fair for 
all the grown folks to go off and do as they 
please, and leave the children to do as they 
please, and then scold ’cause they do it.” 

“And / think,” said little Miss Lottie, 
looking up from the boot she was button- 
ing, “ that some folks want their Sundays 
all one-sided. I don’t like that kind.” 

It appeared to Kezzie that hers had been 
many-sided, and uncomfortable on every 
side. Neither did she like that kind. But 
she made no comment, only hurried the 
children away to school. She brushed and 
dusted, and scolded mentally as she did so. 
It was wonderful that the flowers in all the 
vases must be withered at once. Of course 
nobody but herself ever thought it worth 


WHERE THE ARROW RANKLED. 53 

while to give them fresh water. How the 
books and the papers were scattered about ! 
It really seemed as if every one who had 
used them had carefully placed them where 
they did not belong. 

Then, when she congratulated herself 
that her round was nearly ended, Lisa, in 
moving a boiler of hot clothes, scalded her 
hand — not severely, but so badly that it 
had to be bound up — and left only stupid 
little Maggie to attend to a variety of things 
beyond her ken. So Kezzie had new calls. 

Celia did not come down during all the 
forenoon. Once, passing by her open door, 
Kezzie had a glimpse of her lying on a 
lounge, book in hand, comfortably resting 
after the fatigues of the previous day. 
The vision vexed and irritated her, and the 
remembrance of it made every task she 
undertook seem harder. Later in the day, 
when she was passing up stairs with flushed 
cheeks and disordered hair and met Celia 
coming down,* dainty, elegant and cool as 
usual, the contrast chafed her afresh ; and 
in reply to an innocent remark about yes- 
terday, she suggested sharply : 


54 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

“A Society for Ameliorating the Condi- 
tion of Younger Sisters would be in order, 
I think.” 

Celia only uplifted her eyebrows in calm 
surprise. She chose to have her position, 
in some respects, rather that of a guest 
than of a daughter in her father’s house. 
She “ did not understand children,’ and had 
no talent for getting on with them. As for 
other matters, if servants were properly 
trained, there would be no need of their 
receiving extra help on certain days. Aunt 
Nene was certainly foolish, to take so much 
care and labor upon herself.” Which theory 
settled the matter comfortably. As for 
Kezzie’s remark, it only proved what she 
never doubted — how exceedingly childish 
and undisciplined the girl was. 

Kezzie herself was far more surprised at 
the words she had spoken — a little remorse- 
ful too ; but it did not add to her serenity 
of spirit. It was like touching a quivering 
nerve when Sydney came in and commented 
in careless boy-fashion on her look and 
manner : 

“ How fagged out you look, Kezzie ! Your 


WHERE THE ARROW RANKLED. 55 

nose is red and your eyes heavy. Too 
much dissipation yesterday, eh ?” 

“Not a sort of dissipation you will ever 
injure yourself with,” she said. 

He laughed provokingly : 

“ Don’t attempt to be lofty and crushing, 
Kezzie. Celia understands that style, but 
you are only a miserable parody.” 

He was two years her junior, a high- 
school boy yet, and that contemptuously 
good-natured way of treating her indigna- 
tion was exasperating. She ran up to her 
own room and, throwing herself down on 
the bed, buried her face in the pillows and 
cried. The tears did her good. Her im- 
patience, resentment and weariness slowly 
found relief in them, and a softer and better 
mood came. 

Oh dear ! It is hard that everything 
must get so wTong, when I was really try- 
ing to do right,” she sobbed. “ I don’t 
know how to do anything. Oh, do help me 
to be right !” 

She was scarcely conscious of having 
uttered a prayer, and yet that weary, be- 
wildered cry was one — the most earnest 


$6 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

and urgent, perhaps, of all her life. It was 
a step — stumbling, weak and uncertain, 
indeed, but a step — forward, away from 
helplessness toward the Help. 


CHAPTER III. 


IN THE <‘AMEN CORNERS 



ANNIE LANCEY had a brilliant idea 


X — at least, she called it “ perfectly splen- 
did ” when she communicated it to Kezzie 
as the two sat in the back-parlor, busy with 
their crochet-hooks and a mass of bright 
worsteds : 

“ Oh, there is a camp-meeting out at 
Mayne’s Grove this week, and a lot of 
us are going out on Sunday — Sue and 
George and two or three others. Did you 
ever go to a camp-meeting ?’' 

“ No. IVe often wanted to,” said Kezzie, 
with brightening eyes, “ but Fve never had 
a chance.” 

“You’ll have one now, then. I like camp- 
meetings, they’re so queer and nice, and all 
that. It will be just lovely if it stays such 
weather as this. Only twelve miles out 
there, you know — just a nice drive. And 


57 


$8 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

the grove is the prettiest place ! We shall 
take our dinners with us, of course. We 
can be there through the afternoon, and 
stay for a part of the evening meeting if we 
choose, and ride home by moonlight. It 
will be perfectly delightful,” explained Miss 
Fannie, with many adjectives and exclama- 
tions. “ I haven’t been to one for ever so 
long. It’s so funny to watch all the queer 
folks. They are holding the meetings all 
this week, but then a good many people 
will go out from here on Sunday, and from 
all the little towns around; so the place 
will be crowded. You have no idea what 
odd-looking creatures some of them are.” 

“Yes,” said Kezzie, a little bewildered by 
the description. “ But it* is really a good 
meeting, isn’t it. Fan ? Because — ” 

“Why, of course,” answered Fannie, with 
wide-open eyes of astonishment. “ What 
else should it be ? You don’t suppose a lot 
of ministers and people would go out there 
to preach and pray and sing for a whole 
week if they weren’t good, do you ? Be- 
sides, everybody goes. — Oh, Sydney!” as 
she espied him passing through the hall. 


IN THE ‘*AMEN CORNER:* S9 

“Stop a minute. We are going out to 
Mayne’s Grove to the camp-meeting Sun- 
day — half a dozen of us. Won’t you go? 
Kezzie is going.” 

“ Jolly ! To be sure I’ll go,” answered 
Sydney, promptly, tossing his hat back into 
the hall and coming in to hear further par- 
ticulars. He liked the plan, and he es- 
pecially liked the invitation, because, as he 
was in school yet, he was considered only 
a boy and frequently not included where 
Kezzie was invited. He was pleased that 
Fannie Lancey was begining to recognize 
his growing importance. “Who is going, 
and how ?” he asked. 

So Fannie once more explained the pro- 
gramme, with all its delights: “We shall 
get carriages from the livery-stable, or one 
large carriage if we can : it will be so much 
nicer to ride together. It will not take 
more than two hours to go or to come, but 
we will start pretty early.” 

“ Well, Kezzie and I will go,” promised 
Sydney. 

“If we can,” amended Kezzie. 

“ Why, we can if we choose,” asserted 


6o TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

Sydney ; which was pretty nearly the fact. 
Aunt Nene made no pretence of authority, 
and the mother was seldom consulted about 
any such things. Still, Kezzie did ask her 
father. He was passing through the room 
with thoughts even more preoccupied than 
usual — wondering whether certain papers 
he wished to consult were in his desk at 
home or in his office at the mill — when she 
stopped him for a moment : 

“ Father, do you care if Sydney and I go 
out to the camp-meeting next Sunday ?’’ 

He half heard the sentence : “ Of course 
not, child; I never object to your going to 
meeting where you please.” Then some- 
thing — it might have been that word “ meet- 
ing,” or possibly his thought about the 
papers suggested other papers, school re- 
ports that had come to him lately — made 
him add, with sudden earnestness, “ Kezzie, 
now that you are at home, I hope you will 
look after the younger children as far as 
you can. See what they are doing at 
school, and know a little how they are get- 
ting along. It seems to me they have every 
advantage — the bills are certainly large 


IN THE ‘‘AMEN CORNERS 6 1 

enough — but I am afraid they are not doing 
as well as they ought. I have so little time 
to attend to such matters, and their mother 
sick — ” The anxious lines deepened in his 
forehead, and he sighed. Notwithstanding 
his costly home, his large interest in the 
Ontario Works and the reputed rate at 
which that establishment was making money 
Mr. Driscoll looked just then scarcely a 
man to be envied. “ I’m afraid they run 
wild too much of the time. Do what you 
can for them, Kezzie.” 

“Yes, sir,” she answered, surprised and 
touched at his tone and words, so unusual 
from him, yet promising somewhat vaguely. 
She did not know what she could do, nor 
did she fully understand the cause and 
direction of his anxiety. 

It was a religious meeting at the grove, 
and good Christian people were holding it, 
Kezzie assured herself frequently in the 
two or three days that followed — quite un- 
necessarily, it would seem, since nobody 
questioned the fact. Possibly she was an- 
swering some inner voice. 

The morning came, as bright and beau- 


62 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


tiful as could be desired. Sydney was in 
high spirits. 

“ Hurry up, Kezzie; they have come,” he 
said, passing her on the stairs. “ It’s a splen- 
did morning for a drive, and we’ll have the 
gayest sort of a time.” 

“ But it’s a meeting, you know, Syd,” said 
Kezzie, earnestly. 

“ Of course, but we are not going just 
for that. We could find meetings enough 
nearer by if that were all we wanted.” 

That was the truth, simple and unvar- 
nished. 

Kezzie stopped midway on the stairs and 
stood for a moment irresolute, half inclined 
to turn back even then. But her compan- 
ions called to her from the door : “ Come, 
Kezzie ! We are waiting .for you and she 
went slowly down. 

The fresh sweet air pleasantly fanned 
her cheeks as the carriage whirled on, and 
oresently the hot flush died away. She as- 
sented eagerly to Sue’s remark : 

“ I don’t see why all the churches don’t 
hold their services out of doors such weather 
as this.” 


IN THE ^'AMEN CORNERS 63 

“ Dispense with the organ and engage the 
birds for a choir,” added the young gentle- 
man beside her. 

The birds were singing merrily as the car- 
riage left the city streets and passed out into 
a quiet country road. The green leaves glis- 
tened and rustled, and the fields of undulat- 
ing grain stretched away toward the distant 
hills. The whole picture was one of peace- 
ful beauty. 

“What could be more Sabbath-like and 
restful ?” whispered Kezzie. 

“We didn’t start very early, after all our 
resolutions,” said Fannie. “ Do whip up 
those horses, or it will be dreadfully late 
w’hen we get there.” 

“Never mind; we shall have time to 
hear all we want, if it is. Do let us enjoy 
the drive, any way,” some one answered, 
laughingly. 

By and by the faint, distant sound of a 
bell reached them. 

“ The church-bells are actually ringing ! 
Did you think it was so late? I didn’t 
imagine we could hear them away out here. 
What bell is that?” 


64 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

It sounds like Grace church.’* 

“ Oh, have any of you heard the new 
minister at Grace church ? I saw him on 
the street one day, and I’ve been wonder- 
ing ever since what he would be like in the 
pulpit.” 

“Well, he is pretty fair — has a very pe- 
culiar voice that struck me rather unfavor- 
ably,” answered Mr. George, critically. 

“Was it the voice or what it said?” asked 
Sydney, mischievously; but the question was 
lost in Sue’s voluble comments : 

“ Oh, I didn’t mind his voice so much — 
I could stand that — but his gestures are 
fearfully awkward. Why, he swooped his 
hands down just in this way and Sue 
made a dive with her little gloved fingers, 
whereat Fannie suddenly dodged: 

“ My dear, I hope he doesn’t come as 
near as that to the heads of his con- 
gregation, or they will have sadly batter- 
ed bonnets.” 

“ I have heard him once or twice. I 
thought he said some very sensible things, 
too,” remarked the gentleman who was 
Fannie’s vis-a-vis. 


IN THE **AM£N CORNERS 65 

“What he said was well enough,” ad- 
mitted Sue, as if that were a matter of the 
least possible importance ; “ it was his way 
of saying it that troubled me. As I told 
Mrs. Els worth — ” 

“ Oh, Sue,” interposed Fannie, “ do you 
know who that girl was with the Elsworths 
last Friday — that stranger with her hair 
frizzed in such a wonderful way, and dress- 
ed in li^ht brown? You must have noticed 
her.” 

“ She is a sister of that Springfield gen- 
tleman whom Lizzie Elsworth is to marry,” 
explained Sue. 

Thereupon followed various items of in- 
telligence concerning the prospective wed- 
ding— its time and place and the tour that 
was to succeed it. And from that the talk 
flitted on to various topics and persons, 
touching life's comedies and tragedies, con- 
demning this and admiring that with the 
serene confidence in the infallibility of their 
own judgment which belonged to the ripe 
years of the party. 

The grove, as Fannie had said, was a 
pleasant place, and a large number of 


66 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


people had collected there. Long rows 
of seats occupied a large space, and back 
of these many persons were standing or 
sitting in groups on the grass, while beyond 
stretched a straggling fringe of individuals 
coming and going between the main ground 
and the place where the horses and wagons, 
carriages and vehicles of all descriptions 
were fastened. Our party made their way 
slowly through the crowd looking for seats 
— vainly, it seemed : every one was filled. 

“I told you we started too late,’' said 
Fanny. 

Mr. George, who had strayed away to 
make a reconnoissance, returned with the in- 
formation that he had. discovered some un- 
occupied seats farther around to the left. 
He led the way, and the others followed, 
winding in and out among the people until, 
when the desired places were reached, they 
found themselves in the rows of seats at 
one side of the speakers’ stand, and not 
far from it. 

“ Dear me !” whispered the irrepressible 
Fan again ; “ we didn’t want to get away 
up here in the amen corner.” 


IN THE ^‘AMEN CORNERT 6 / 

They settled themselves, disturbing some- 
what the comfort of others before they could 
do so, and then a voice whispered to Kez- 
zie : 

“ Now look over that sea of heads and 
back to the trees and tents. Isn’t it 
queer ?” 

The whole scene was novel to her, and 
the motley congregation, representing near- 
ly all classes and conditions, was strange 
also. Here was a group with refinement 
marking face, dress and manner; there, 
a party whose rough features and un- 
couth garments told of a life Kezzie knew 
little about; while all the intermediate grades 
greeted her in various phases on every side. 

The speaker was deep in his subject be- 
fore they reached the place, and Kezzie 
tried to fix her attention on what he was 
saying. He was a plain, earnest man, dress- 
ed in unclerical gray, seeming to have too 
little thought of himself to make any at- 
tempt at eloquence in his straightforward, 
earnest sentences : 

“ ‘ How long halt ye between two opin- 
ions ?’ Some of you have been doing it 


68 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

many years. Some of you have been here 
all this week, and every day you have been 
called on. to decide, and yet you are no near- 
er a decision than you were one week ago. 
To-morrow this meeting will break up and 
we shall go away. You may not have de- 
cided then — or you may think you have not — 
but all this while there is One who has de- 
cided. ‘ He that is not with me is against 
me.’ That is his decision ; remember that. 

‘ How long halt ye ?’ ” 

“ Kezzie,” whispered Fanny, “ do look 
at that poor man trying to keep that 
baby still. He shakes it up exactly like 
a bottle of medicine. It’s too funny !” 

Kezzie could scarcely repress a smile 
as her glance fell upon the perspiring 
nurse and his uneasy charge ; yet the in- 
terruption jarred and pained, and she only 
answered, 

“Hush!” 

“ This isn’t a church ; noFody minds 
whispering out here,” began Fannie. 

The glances and turning of numerous 
heads in their direction proved suddenly 
and conclusively that several people did 


IN THE ‘‘AMEN CORNERS 69 

mind, however, and Fannie, somewhat abash- 
ed, subsided for a few minutes; so that Kez- 
zie cauo-ht the closinof words of the address. 
Then there was a brief period given to vol- 
untary remarks and prayers, with snatches 
of hymns started by one and another through 
the assemblage. 

Suddenly a man near them burst forth in 
a wild old-time tune and words: 

“ Oh I hope to shout * Glory !’ when the world is on fire ! 
Halleluiah !” 


“Wants to have a good time himself, 
whatever becomes of other people,” com- 
mented Mr. George. 

Sue giggled hysterically at the remark, 
but so audibly that again many faces turn- 
ed; and Kezzie met for the second time 
the grave, steady gaze of a pair of dark 
eyes opposite her — a glance that held a 
mingling of surprise and reproof. She 
was mortified and troubled, ashamed of 
her companions and of herself, yet resent- 
ful toward the stranger. 

“Girls, if you cannot be quiet, do let us 
go away,” she whispered, imploringly, but 


70 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


in the lowest of tones ; and then she was 
glad to shade her flushed face with her hand 
in the short prayer that followed. 

Had they really no reverence for sacred 
things — for Christian worship, the Bible 
and the Author of both? Doubtless many 
so judged the gay band, and yet nearly 
every one of them would have been shocked 
at the charge. They simply did not think 
what their careless levity implied or what 
it really was ; they did not think much 
about the matter in any way. 

The morning service ended, and the 
people scattered over the grounds. Our 
party found a quiet nook and ate their din- 
ner, picnic-fashion, where they could catch 
bright gleams of the river between the 
trees. Through the tent doors many quiet 
groups were seen of those who had slipped 
away from the common busy round of life 
for a week of worship and rest. Aside 
from these were many others who had come 
only for the day — some from interest in the 
meeting, some because it was the nearest 
place of worship. Curiosity, with the pleas- 
ure of company and a day in the woods, 


IN THE ^'AMEN CORNERT 7 1 

drew others ; while many, like Kezzie and 
her friends, came from a distance, the ride 
and novelty being the chief attraction. 

Dinner over, they wandered about among 
the trees, and finally strayed down to the 
river bank. A skiff drawn up a little way 
and fastened by a rope attracted their at- 
tention. The oars were in it. 

“It must be intended for whoever wishes 
to use it, left in this way,” suggested some 
one. “Let us take it and just row up there 
to the bend ; . I want to see that point.” 

They were soon taking possession of it 
— all but Kezzie. 

“ I do not want to go,” she said, hesitat- 
ingly ; “ I do not think we ought to go.” 

“Oh, we won’t keep it long enough to 
trouble the owner ; we will only row up to 
the point and back,” they explained, care- 
lessly. 

“But I don’t think it is right — to-day 
she urged. 

It is doubtful if the last two words were 
heard by any one but Sydney, who had 
lingered a little. 

“Why not?” he asked. “Why is it any 


72 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

worse to ride a quarter of a mile in a boat 
than to ride twelve miles in a carriage ? 
And we have all done that this morning.” 

“We came out to the meeting,” she said, 
slowly. 

“We came out because we wanted to; 
that’s the long and short of it,” answered 
Sydney, bluntly. “We didn’t see any harm 
in it ; and I want to go up to the point, and 
I don’t see any harm in that. Come, Kez- 
zie, don’t be nonsensical.” 

But Kezzie shook her head. The others 
seated themselves in the boat, lingered and 
coaxed her a little, and then, as she positive- 
ly refused to go, Mr. George politely pro- 
posed remaining with her, though looking 
perplexed at what he evidently considered 
a mere whim. She declined that offer ; she 
did not wish him to stay simply on her ac- 
count, and she could not explain that she 
was acting upon principle. She did not 
stand on high enough vantage-ground for 
that. So, after a few minutes’ loitering on 
her account, they promised to return soon 
and rowed away, Sydney, at least, some- 
what vexed with her conduct. 


V 



After the Camp 3Ieeting. 


Page 72. 







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IN THE **AMEN CORNERS 73 

With the tears gathering in her eyes, 
Kezzie watched them till out of sight. She 
could not console herself with the reflection 
that she had set any good example or done 
any good in any way beyond refusing to 
do further violence to her own conscience. 
And even there some words from the Bible- 
reading of the morning haunted her with- 
out being fully understood — something about 
“tithing mint, anise and cummin, and neg- 
lecting the weightier matters of the law.*' 
She had found a seat upon a fallen tree 
where she could watch the river ; but the 
loneliness of her position soon grew un- 
pleasant, • and she was conscious of the 
curious glances bent upon her by many 
strangers who passed. It seemed to her 
that the boat had been gone a long time. 

By and by there floated down to her the 
sound of singing; the afternoon meeting 
had begun. Clear and sweet the words 
came : 

“ Have you on the Lord believed ? 

Still there’s more to follow.” 

“There must be — a great deal more, if, 
indeed, I ever have believed at all,*' sighed 


74 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

poor Kezzie as she joined the crowd of 
people who were hastening toward the 
speakers’ stand, and made her way around 
to the place she had occupied in the morn- 
ing. 

There was no one to disturb her now, 
but she could not give undivided attention 
to the service. Even through the prayer 
she watched the river ; and when a grave, 
scholarly man arose — altogether unlike the 
speaker of the morning save in that one 
characteristic, earnestness — she but half 
heard the address for anxious wondering 
about her companions. What could have 
kept them? They had promised to return 
in a few minutes ; surely, however pleasant 
the excursion had proved, they would not 
willingly have stayed so long with that bor- 
rowed boat, and knowing that they had left 
her alone. Had any accident happened ? 
Her perturbed mind and the loneliness, 
worse than solitude, of being surrounded 
by strangers, combined to make her ner- 
vous and foolishly apprehensive, and soon 
produced a mood in which all evils seemed 
possible. They might have reached the 


IN THE ^^AMEN CORNERT 7 $ 

point and have lost the skiff, so that they 
were unable to return. The boat might 
have capsized and drowned them all. Even 
Sydney, though a good swimmer, might lose 
his life in trying to save the others. 

So imagination touched her with one sug- 
gestion after another while she anxious- 
ly w^atched the river, where she could see 
it through the trees, for any sight of their 
return. What could she do if any harm 
had come to them? 

Meanwhile, through all her troubled 
thoughts fragments of the sermon reach- 
ed her : 

‘“Ye are my witnesses.’ Do you ever 
think what testimony you are giving to the 
world? When our lives say to those around 
us that there is no power in his truth to 
make us noble, steadfast and pure, are 
we not bearing false witness against the 
Lord?” 

Whatever else that service was, it was 
neither worship nor comfort to Kezzie Dris- 
coll. She felt the wrong of sitting there 
with wandering thought and hearing so lit- 
tle, and yet she would have been glad to 


76 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

forget the words that did reach her, they 
so probed and hurt that already sore con- 
science. The time seemed to have grown 
into hours, and she longed to get away to 
the river-bank again — to go somewhere or 
to do something to find her friends. But, 
having taking her place so near the stand, 
she shrank from attracting observation by 
leaving it. 

By and by the meeting changed its form. 
There were brief recitals of experience, re- 
quests for prayer, and, under cover of the 
singing, some low words of inquiry and 
conference here and there. An old woman 
near Kezzie suddenly turned toward her a 
brown, wrinkled, kindly face and questioned 
in tender tones : 

“ Dear, do you love the Lord ?” 

“ I don’t know,” she answered, honestly, 
with a tinge of troubled doubt in both look 
and vpice. 

“Well, the love on our side is uncertain 
enough, and not worth talking much about 
at its best; but you can be sure he loves 
you.” 

“ I want to be, but everything is so tan- 


IN THE »AMEN CORNERS 

gled,” said Kezzie, with the tears starting 
to her eyes. 

“ Then drop the tangles into his hand, 
child. He can straighten them out, and 
you never can.’* 

The singing ended, and the sweet old 
face turned away as a prayer began. 

At last the exercises closed, and Kezzie 
arose with a sense of relief The feelinof 
was but momentary, however, for walking 
about alone through that crowd of strangers, 
without knowing where to go or what to do, 
was worse than the enforced quiet. She 
wandered a little way and paused, the trouble 
and perplexity so apparent in her face that 
it attracted the attention of a gentleman 
near her. 

“ Pardon me,^’ he said, courteously, with 
quick comprehension of her difficulty. “You 
have lost your way or your friends, have 
you not ? Can I render any assistance ?” 

She looked up and recognized the dark 
eyes whose grave glance in the morning 
had so mortified and irritated her. They 
were kindly enough now, certainly ; but 
she would not tell him of the boat-ride if 


78 TANGLES AND CORNERS, 

she could possibly avoid it, she mentally 
decided, though sorely longing to accept 
the proffered aid. She replied by a vague 
explanation : she had missed her friends 
and did not know where they were. They 
had parted without arranging just where 
they would meet ; perhaps she might find 
them at the river-side, she said, hesitating- 
ly. And then, to her intense relief, she sud- 
denly discovered the group comfortably seat- 
ed in the shade of a great tree a few rods 
distant. 

“ Oh, there they are now,” she exclaimed. 
“ Thank you for your kindness, but I need 
not trouble you and she hastened away. 

In the reaction from her excitement and 
anxiety she could scarcely restrain her tears 
as she again joined the party, but no one 
seemed to notice the moistening eyes and 
trembling lips, or to understand that she 
had 'Teen really troubled. 

“Why, didn’t you see us come back? 
We thought you did. We saw you, and 
I waved my handkerchief,” said Fannie, 
carelessly. “The woods are just lovely 
up there at the point.” 


IN THE ^^AMEN CORNERS 79 

“ She thought we were all drowned, like 
the bad boys in the story-book,” said Mr. 
George, languidly arranging a seat for her 
by throwing a shawl over one of the rustic 
benches the place afforded. 

“ I thought some of you would surely 
let me know when you came back,” she 
answered. 

‘‘Well, we thought we had,” repeated 
Fannie. “You had gone away up to that 
amen corner once more, and the rest of 
us didn’t want to go there again : I’m sure 
I didn’t. They were all so solemn, and 
looked around as if they had never heard 
any one whisper before.” 

“They looked as if they thought you 
had never been in a meeting before, or 
did not know how to behave in one. It 
wasn’t altogether an unpardonable suppo- 
sition, under the circumstances,” remarked 
Sue, with more frankness than politeness. 

“ In a church it would be a different 
thing, of course,” said Fannie, flushing a 
little ; “ but a camp-meeting isn’t like a 

church.” 

“ I wonder just where the difference 


8o TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

lies ? Why do people go to either ?” ques- 
tioned Sydney. 

It was one of those questions that some- 
times drop plummet-like through the glitter 
and foam of surface talk into deep waters 
below. No one answered — possibly no one 
cared to have it answered — but Kezzie, 
glancing at her brother’s face, saw that he 
had spoken seriously. 

She would have been glad to go home 
at once, but the others were in no haste ; 
and they lingered until the evening service 
had begun. The flickering lights falling 
over the white tents and on the sea of 
faces, and waging war with the dark shad- 
ows cast by the trees, made the scene 
strange and weird. Our party did not 
attempt to obtain any position near the 
speakers ; but some earnest words reach- 
ed them, and the hymns that floated back 
to them seemed to hold a deeper meaning 
than they were wont to know : 


“ Sown in the darkness or sown in the light, 
Sown in our weakness or sown in our might, 
Gathered in time or eternity. 

Sure — ah, sure ! — will the harvest be.” 


IN THE **AMEN CORNER.” 8 1 

They turned away with the refrain still 
ringing in their ears. 

Some way — no one quite knew why — 
that homeward ride in the moonlight was 
a silent one. 


6 


CHAPTER IV. 


SHARP CORNERS IN PEOPLE AND CIRCUM- 
STANCES. 

T he whole house was in commotion: 
Celia was to be married. 

It was not exactly the fact that disturbed 
everybody or anybody, but the series of 
preparations that Celia decided were ne- 
cessary. She was calm enough, but she 
knew what must be done, and knew with 
great positiveness that so much must be 
done that it disturbed the whole current . 
of household affairs. 

“ IPs not the marrying, but the nuptials, 
that all the fuss is about. 

‘ PufF and ruffle and flounce, 

Flounce and ruffle and puff ; 

Ribbons by yard and roll and ounce, 

But never ribbons enough,’ ” 

parodied Sydney as he found muslins on 


SHARP CORNERS. 83 

the sofa, patterns on the table and laces 
and satin in the chairs. 

Celia fully realized that she was not 
only a daughter of the house, but the 
eldest daughter, and she had extravagant 
ideas of the outfit that became that posi- 
tion. She liked all fine and dainty things,- 
and she had never been obliged seriously 
to count their cost; so muslins, linens, 
silks and laces were ordered and sent 
home, until it seemed, even to Kezzie, 
that the succession of bundles was end- 
less. Then seamstresses were in demand 
to make up the fabrics — seamstresses in 
the house for morning-dresses and walk- 
ing-suits, for table- and bed-linen ; while 
the more fashionable establishments in the 
city took charge of the more elaborate cos- 
tumes. 

. The children grew tired of the attend- 
ance upon the door-bell which fell to their 
share. 

“It is just like the story the man told 
to the king who wanted a story without 
any end,” fretted Lottie : “ ‘ A locust went 
in and brought out a grain of corn; and 


84 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

another locust went in and brought out 
another erain of corn ; and then another 
locust went in and brought out another 
grain of corn.’ ” 

Some of Celia’s relatives — relatives of 
her own mother — were to be present on 
the occasion, and she was anxious to have 
them favorably impressed. Some apart- 
ments must be entirely rearranged, to be 
suitable for their reception. 

“You really have no idea how particular 
they are about everything at Uncle Jasper’s. 
Aunt never replaces any article of furniture 
at haphazard: all things must harmonize,” 
Celia explained, impressively. “ She says a 
house should not look like a manufacture, 
but like a growth.” 

“ Ours looks as if it had sprouted,” de- 
clared Sydney, encouragingly. 

There were elaborate preparations going 
on in the culinary department also, and, 
altogether, stir and bustle prevailed from 
“turret to foundation-stone.” It sometimes 
seemed as if Aunt Nene’s room were the 
only quiet spot in the house. It was much 
plainer than the other rooms — she would 


SHARP CORNERS. 


85 


have it so — with its old-fashioned sofa, work- 
table and high' backed chairs, relics of the 
old home of her. girlhood among the hills 
of New England. The fireplace, with its 
glowing blaze now that the cool evenings 
of early fall made the warmth agreeable, 
was old-fashioned also, but very pleasant. 
Kezzie liked to drop in there in these hur- 
ried, worried days, and Mr. Driscoll seemed 
to enjoy it also. 

“It looks so homelike here, Nene — as if 
we were away back in Vermont,” he said, 
with a smile that ended in a sigh. 

The lines were growing deep in his fore- 
head in these days. There were other 
causes of trouble than all these wedding 
preparations, which Kezzie fancied did 
trouble him. He acceded to all Celia’s 
requests. He always answered, 

“ I suppose so, daughter — whatever is 
necessary and proper. I do not know much 
about such things, but, of course, we must 
manage to have whatever is necessary and 
proper.” 

Yet he sighed, sometimes when the bills 
came in, though he made no remark about 


86 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

them, and it might not have been of them 
that he was thinking. 

Kezzie wondered if it could be. She 
knew that Tom’s course was an increasing 
source of disappointment to his father. His 
irregular attendance upon any duties at the 
mills, his frequent absences from home and 
his whole mode of life caused a dissatisfac- 
tion and anxiety that she was sharing more 
and more, though silently. Neither her 
father nor any one else talked of it. She 
was beginning to feel how much the house- 
hold went each in his or her own way, how 
few confidences they shared, and how little 
they really had in common. She thought 
of it in regard to Celia, now that she was 
going away — how little real intimacy there 
had ever been between them, and how little 
knowledge she had of her sister’s new 
hopes and plans. With her prospective 
brother-in-law — a grave, dignified, middle- 
aged gentleman— she scarcely felt acquaint- 
ed at all. He had been at the house fre- 
quently in the last few weeks,. and she had 
seen and spoken with him, but he seemed 
a stranger still. Once he brought his two 


SHARP CORNERS.. 


87 


little boys, shy, pale children, to see the lady 
who was so soon to assume to them the 
relation of mother. “The two unfortu- 
nates,’’ Sydney christened them. 

“I’m sure Celia will try to do her duty 
by them,” said Kezzie. 

“ Oh, I have no doubt they will be brought 
up on a strict diet of duty;” and he whistled 
expressively. “ Now, Kezzie, you needn’t 
look at me so reproachfully. Of course 
everything will be done with the best mo- 
tives, and all the new reforms and new 
lights will be considered in their training. 
The only thing not considered will be the 
poor little youngsters themselves. By the 
way, I hope Brother Meredith isn’t at all 
particular what becomes of him nowadays, 
because — ” 

“ Sydney, it is too bad !” interposed Kez- 
zie, half laughing. “ Celia is going to leave 
us so soon.” 

The new tenderness awakened by that 
thought held in it something of compunc- 
tion and made her wish she possessed more 
of Celia’s confidence. She wondered whether 
she too had missed anything of true sister- 


88 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

liness in their relation and regretted it now 
that she was going away — whether she felt 
any lingering sadness at leaving the old 
home. 

One evening, when there was a few min- 
utes’ lull in the rustle of dress-goods and 
millinery, Kezzie had sought her sister’s 
room on an errand, and, finding her alone, 
lingered a little. 

“ It seems strange to think of your going 
away to another home,” she said. “Are 
you really glad to go, Celia dear ? I can’t 
help asking ; I have wondered about it so, 
and I am your sister, you know. Are you 
really happy about — all this?” 

The calm gray eyes opened wide in sur- 
prise : 

“ What a question to ask at this late 
hour, child ! Certainly I have considered 
the matter in all its bearings, and I have 
no doubt that I am entering upon a sphere 
of great usefulness.” 

Poor Kezzie ! she could not talk about 
spheres. There seemed nothing more to 
say ; she could think of nothing, and she 
sat twirling a bit of white mist over her 


SHARP CORNERS. 


fingers until Celia discovered her occupa- 
tion and took it away: 

“ My dear Kezzie, do you know that is 
real lace you are playing with ? It cost 
two dollars a yard, and I must get some 
more of it to-morrow.” 

Kezzie laughed — a laugh that hid a 
treacherous little catch in her breath — 
and wenJt away. 

Since the day her father had particularly 
;:alled her attention to the younger chil- 
dren, Kezzie had tried to look after them 
more. She had been obliging and ready 
to share in their interests and pleasures al- 
ways, so that they had been in the habit of 
running to her, but it had been little more 
than affectionate good-nature on her part, 
without much thought of responsibility con- 
cerning them. Of late, however, her inter- 
est in them was deepening and had brought 
a new sense of obligation. The calls of 
duty were growing more earnest, and 
would not let her be merely a gay, thought- 
less girl again. She had tried to discover 
what the boys and Lottie were doing at 
school and to take some oversight of the 


90 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

preparation of their lessons, helping them 
and entering into the spirit of their life. 

After going that one Sunday with Celia, 
she had never again attempted the full round 
of services. They were good, their purpose 
noble and useful and she was not sure wheth- 
er it was right for her to remain away, but 
there were the children. They did run wild, 
with no one to look after them ; and, besides, 
she had been so worn and unfit for every- 
thing the next day. So she selected the 
mission school, and went there and to her 
own church, remaining at home the rest 
of the day and trying to help the children 
to pass the time in something like an order- 
ly fashion, yet not without some misgiving 
as to what was duty. 

In one of those troublous afternoons Sue 
Keith sent her a message by Sydney — an 
invitation : 

“ Come over and spend the evening, and 
run in to the colored church for a little while. 
They are just around the corner, you know, 
and we can hear some of their ‘doings’ from 
our piazza; but they jump up and down, and 
shout in the queerest way. And then their 


SHARP CORNERS. 


91 


singing ! I was in once, and I want you to 

go.” 

Kezzie crumpled the bit of paper in her 
hand. The children set up an indignant 
protest at the remark with which Sydney 
had delivered it: 

“Sue said to ask you to come early.” 

“Oh, are you going away? You needn’t 
expect us to stay in and be quiet and good, 
and everything, without anybody to read to 
us or tell us stories. No, ma’am !” they as- 
serted. 

“And, any way, I don’t see what we have 
to stay in for,” declared Master Jimmie, 
kicking his heels discontentedly against the 
sofa ; “ the rest don’t. Tom goes where he 
pleases, and Sydney ; and you go off.” 

“I’m not going,” interposed Kezzie, de- 
cidedly. 

“I wouldn’t stay at home on their account, 
Kezzie, if I wanted to go anywhere,” advis- 
ed Sydney, good-naturedly, pausing with his 
hand on the door-knob. “ I don’t suppose 
Sue Keith is any great attraction, as you 
can see her any day ; but if I chose to go 
over there to-night. I’d go. — ^Jimmie, you 


92 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


ought to be ashamed. You are old enough 
to read books to yourself.” 

“ Being old enough to do things and do- 
ing them is altogether different,” retorted 
Jimmie, belligerently. “You are old enough 
to have taken me along when you went to 
see the German procession march to the 
fair-ground to-day, but you didn’t do it.” 

“Oh, Sydney, you didn’t go out there?” 
questioned Kezzie, with dismay in her voice. 

“Not exactly. I was walking out that 
way when they passed, though, and I stop- 
ped and watched them for a little while. 
What of it?” 

“ I don’t think they ought to have such 
parades to-day.” 

“ Maybe not ; I wouldn’t like to do it 
myself; but then my looking on wouldn’t 
help or hinder them,” Sydney answered, 
carelessly. , 

“Why shouldn’t they have their parade j 
to-day?” asked a voice from the back- 
parlor. Tom had come in an hour before 
and thrown himself down on the lounge, 
and Kezzie, who thought him sleeping, had 
forgotten his presence. “ They regard the 


SHARP CORNERS. 


93 


day merely as a holiday. • People who re- 
gard it differently have no right to make 
laws to interfere with their liberty. This 
is a free country.” 

“ Stuff!” exclaimed Sydney, warming from 
indifference into sudden partisanship. “It 
is a free country, but I’m tired of all this 
wailing because foreigners can’t come over 
here and upset everything to suit them- 
selves. If they don’t like our ideas of free- 
dom, let them go back to where they came 
from. This is a Christian country and a 
Sabbath-keeping country ; that is the way 
it was founded, and it would have stopped 
being a free country long ago if it hadn’t 
been for that. These people know what it 
is when they come over here, and that is 
just why they do come — because that sort 
of a country offers privileges and chances 
that no other can. But as soon as they get 
here they begin to cry out that their liberty 
is interfered with if they are not allowed to 
knock out the very foundations of our insti- 
tutions. It is all very well to invite a friend 
into your house and tell him to make him- 
self at home ; but when he takes posses- 


94 


TANGLES ANT CORNERS. 


sion, alters your breakfast-, dinner- and tea- 
hour, and coolly informs you that your fam- 
ily arrangements interfere with his liberty, 
why it is a little too much freedom. It is 
about time to ask him to change his board- 
ing-place ; that’s what I think and 'Sydney 
walked out and closed the door with an em- 
phatic bang. 

He had not cared much about the matter 
until he began to argue about it. Tom’s 
words had aroused an antagonistic spirit, 
he scarcely knew why, but now, influenced 
by his own expressed views upon the sub- 
ject, he half wished he had not given the 
parade the support of even his presence. 
It was only afterward that he remembered 
to wonder why Kezzie had wished the same 
thing. He did not believe it was . because 
she had thought of the matter as he repre- 
sented it to Tom. 

“ Girls never do think of such things,” he 
decided, with serene superiority ; “ but Kez- 
zie is some way getting as touchy with her 
oughts and her ought-nots as if she were 
responsible for the morals of the nation. I 
don’t know what is coming over her and 


j 

1 

j 

,! 

i 

\ 

1 

t. 


SHAJiP CORNERS. 


95 


then his reverie ended in a long meditative 
whistle that covered a sudden thought not 
easily put into words. 

Kezzie devoted herself to the desired 
•reading and story-telling that evening. She 
might have offered that occupation as an 
excuse to Sue for declining her invitation, 
but it would not have been altogether an 
honest one. She was forced reluctantly to 
acknowledge that in thinking of it, and so 
she wrote her a little note hesitatingly but 
honestly : 

“ Dear Sue : I don’t think it would be 
right for us to go over to the little church 
to-night — not in that way. Of course there 
is no harm in merely going to a colored 
church — I don’t mean that — and I should 
like to hear them sing and talk. But then, 
however queer their ways are, their meeting 
is for worship, and it doesn’t seem right to 
go to such a place just to laugh at things 
that are funny and absurd to us. I don’t 
know that I have explained very clearly, 
but I can’t make it seem right to go.” 

Sue’s answer was sufficiently explicit : 
“ Certainly I do not want you to go unless 


96 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

you choose to do so; but I thought you 
would enjoy it, and I didn’t suppose you 
were any more scrupulous about such 
things than the rest of us. Why should 
I?” 

She was slightly vexed at the refusal, and 
somewhat more at the reason ; but the 
concluding question was asked without a 
thought of what a barbed arrow it would 
prove. Kezzie herself could not answer 
it, but with a lightning-like flash it revealed 
what her past had been. 

Sydney often grew puzzled over Kezzie’s 
oughts and ought-nots ” as the days passed 
— not more so than she did herself, how- 
ever. She was filled with unrest, and these 
bustling days, bringing many duties to take 
up and anxieties to which her eyes had 
but lately opened, all pressed upon her. 
“Without were fightings, within were 
fears they crowded and burdened her. 
She grew weary and often irritable. 

Aunt Nene noticed the change and called 
her “ mopish and nervous,” mentally adding 
that “ these new-fashioned boarding-schools 
leave a girl without any stamina.” The 


SHARP CORNERS. 


97 


3^ounger children. fretted over her variable- 
ness, and declared Kezzie was cross. Syd- 
ney, who was nearer her own age, and be- 
tween whom and herself there had always 
existed the most companionship, alone had 
a dim suspicion of the cause. He missed 
his merry, care-free sister and grew impa- 
tient of her moods. Now she vetoed some 
pet project or refused some request, insist- 
ing, with troubled voice and face, that she 
thought it wrong. Then, again, wearied 
and dissatisfied with herself, she grew care- 
less and defiant, and said and did things 
that seemed to Sydney far more objection- 
able than those she condemned. 

“ Kezzie Driscoll,” he said, shortly, one 
day, “ you ought to be either better or 
worse. It’s my opinion that you have just 
religion enough to make you thoroughly 
uncomfortable.” 

He turned and walked away. A moment 
later he would gladly have recalled his 
words, yet they were but the plain sharp 
truth, and Kezzie knew it as she flung her- 
self down tearfully beside the old sofa in 
Aunt Nene’s room. She knew no joy of 

7 


93 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

love, no rest of faith, no sweet glad service. 
Conscience urged duty here and there, ! 
showed wrong and sin in the old care- 
less ways, and robbed her of all enjoyment 
in pursuing them. 

“ Oh dear ! Everything is just as it was 
a few months ago, and why must it seem 
so different to me ?” she sobbed. “ Why 
can’t I feel as I used to, and not be so anx- 
ious about myself and the others ?” j 

She did not know that even then it was a j 
Heaven-sent unrest — the beginning of that ' 
“ hungering and thirsting after righteous- 
ness ” which our Lord has called “ blessed.” ; 

If undemonstrative Aunt Nene had a j 
favorite, it was Kezzie ; and th^ result of 
her silent observation was a suggestion to 
her brother one day : 

“ That girl is getting peaked and poorly 
lately. She is tired out with all this fuss 
and worry, and she needs a change, Cyrus. 
When Celia goes South on her wedding- 
trip, you’d better send Kezzie with her.” 

Mr. Driscoll looked at his daughter over 
his paper, dropped it and looked at her 
more attentively : | 


SHARP CORNERS. 


99 


Are you ill, child ? I believe you have 
grown a little thinner, though I hadn’t 
thought of it before. Perhaps your aunt 
is right. If you think it would do you good 
to go with Celia — ” 

“ Oh, not that !” interposed Kezzie — “ I 
don’t care for that ; but if you will let me 
go somewhere else instead, father, after she 
is gone. If I could only go and see Cousin 
Marion !” 

“That will do just as well, and better,” 
decided Aunt Nene. “There will be more 
rest and less fuss.” 

“Well, if it is best — if you both think it 
best,” assented Mr. Driscoll, slowly, looking 
from one to the other and finding himself 
committed to the plan — “why, I suppose 
we must let you go. I had not thought 
of such a thing just now — expenses have 
been pretty heavy — but we must manage 
it. I don’t want you to become an inva- 
lid too.” 

His sigh emphasized the last little word. 
There had been a sick-room in the house 
so long! 

“No danger of that; but she is out of 


100 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


sorts, and it will do her good to go for a 
few weeks,” replied Aunt Nene. 

Kezzie did not pause to consider in what 
way the proposition was made or granted, 
but she caught at it eagerly as a hope of 
relief and rest. She had not thought of 
going away until it had been so suddenly 
suggested in her presence, but she bright- 
ened at once at the prospect. If she could 
get away somewhere — if she could go to 
Cousin Marion’s quiet home, where she 
could view all her perplexing questions 
from a distance, with time to decide what 
she ought to do before she was forced to 
do it — she certainly should see more clear- 
ly, she fancied, and think her way back to 
peace again. 

Meanwhile, the busy days went on, grow- 
ing more crowded as the important event 
drew near. Cans and jars were left at the 
kitchen door, boxes and packages at the 
front door. Dresses were finished and 
sent home ; the rearranging of the upper 
rooms was completed ; and, finally, Celia’s 
Boston friends came and took possession 
of them. 


SHARP CORNERS. 10 1 

Kezzie stood somewhat in awe of these 
guests — more from her sister’s many de- 
scriptions of them than from anything she 
saw in the persons themselves — and she 
was glad of an opportunity afforded by an 
errand up town to slip away in the after- 
noon of their arrival. It was late when she 
was returning, but she loitered still as she 
took her homeward way around by the 
mills, until her steps were quickened at 
last by a sudden dash of rain. She had 
intended to walk home with her father, but 
it was later than she thought ; he had al- 
ready gone, and the great building was, 
for the most part, deserted. She was com- 
pelled to take shelter in one of the great 
arched doorways, however, and wait a few 
minutes for the shower to pass. It seemed 
like standing in the entrance of a cavern 
as she looked back into the great gloomy 
room beyond. The shadows already lay 
thick and black in the distant i;ecesses, 
while the foreground was but dimly lighted 
by the soiled and dusty windows. The pon- 
derous, silent machinery assumed strange 
shapes in the gloom, and the dull red glow 


^102 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

of the dying fire in a distant furnace add- 
ed to the weird effect. There were a 
few men still busy about the place ; she 
could hear them, though she did not see 
them. 

Presently down the lonely road came a 
slightly bent figure with swinging step, 
and approached directly to where she stood. 
She recognized Old Simms, as nearly every- 
body about the place called him, and, look- 
ing up, she laughingly explained how she 
came there. 

“ Yes, Mr. Driscoll’s been gone nigh 
about fifteen minutes, I reckon,” said 
the old man, lifting his cap from his 
grizzled hair and shaking off the rain- 
drops. “ It’s likely nobody around has 
any key to the office doors, but you might 
come into the engine-room and stop a 
bit. Miss Kezzie. It is dry and warm 
there, and I think the rain won’t last 
long. Or maybe you’d like to send some 
one home?” 

“ Thank you, no ; I’ll wait here. I think 
I can go in a few minutes,” she answered. 
Then she noticed the lunch-basket he car- 


SHARP CORNERS. IO3 

ried : “ Why, Mr. Simms, you don’t work 
at night, do you ?” 

“ Not regular, but this is Saturday night, 
you see. I expect to work till midnight 
to-night, and then begin again at twelve 
to-morrow night, and keep at it till near 
morning, most likely. There’s repairs to 
be finished up before Monday.” 

“And you don’t like to work Sunday?” 
questioned Kezzie, recollectin'g what her 
father had said of him and growing inter- 
ested at once. 

“No; I don’t do it. There’s enough of 
that thing done here, and plenty of men 
that do it ; but I don’t. I’ll work nights or 
any other time, though, to keep up the re- 
pairs, and I guess no man’ll say they ain’t 
kept up, so far as I have anything to do 
with ’em.” 

Kezzie reflected. No ; she had heard 
her father express a fear that something 
would be neglected on account of “ Old 
Simms’s exceeding scrupulousness,” but 
she did not remember hearing him com- 
plain that anything had been so neglected. 

“ But, after all, don’t you think some of 


104 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

the men are really doing better when they 
work here that day and earn something for 
their families than they would be if they 
didn’t?” she asked, recalling something else 
that her father had said on that same oc- 
casion. “ I suppose it is very probable 
that if they couldn’t come here some of 
them might spend the time in a worse 
way.” 

“Yes, they inight, but they needfit'' an- 
swered the old man, with a shake of his 
head. “And I never could see how it made 
it right for a man to do a bad thing because 
he might do a worse. I know there’s a good 
many arguments, by a good many wiser 
heads than mine, about all this thing, Miss 
Kezzie. I don’t understand ’em, and I don’t 
need to. All I want to know is, ‘What’s 
the Lord’s orders ?’ and I find ’em fair and 
square. Why, I was a soldier in the army 
once, and we were sent here and there, by 
day and night, and no reasons given ; no- 
body thought of asking any, either. If any- 
body had told us boys that it would be bet- 
ter for us to go some other way or to stay 
in our tents, and argued it ever so clear that 


SHARP CORNERS, 


105 


the whole army would get along better if we 
did, it wouldn’t have made any difference to 
us. We’d have said that was the general’s 
business, not ours ; we wasn’t there to judge, 
but to march ; and we’d have marched. So, 
now, after folks have said all they’ve a mind 
to say about this Sunday business, I open 
the Book, and I read, ‘ Six days thou shalt 
labor — the seventh thou shalt not ;’ and that 
ends it. All I’ve got to do is to be sure 
what’s the orders and then obey ’em. Tak- 
in’ care of what comes of it ain’t my busi- 
ness. That makes the thing plain and 
simple, and saves me a deal of bothering 
about it, you see.” 

Kezzie did see. “Whatsoever he saith 
unto you, do it.” That would cleave a 
straight path through many a crooked place. 
To obey and leave all results to him would 
simplify many things for her, she knew. 
Would that be one way of “dropping the 
tangles” into his hand? she wondered, re- 
calling the words of her camp-meeting 
friend as she walked homeward. 


CHAPTER V. 


WHAT WAITED AROUND THE CURVE. 

T he eventful day had passed, and the ^ ^ ! 

bridal party was gone. The long and \ 
laborious preparations had culminated in a i 
few solemn words and an elaborate break- * i 
fast. Celia had been gratified ; that was 
one comfort — the only one except that it 
was over and the house could gradually 
settle into its accustomed ways. There 
were trunks to be packed and sent to 
Celia’s new residence to await her return 
— her wardrobe and bridal-presents. These 
last were numerous and costly. A set of 
mantel-bronzes from Tom had particularly 
pleased her. 

“ These must have cost something hand- 
some. How elegant they are !” she exclaim- 
ed. Tom may be rather wild in some of 
his ways, but he certainly has very fine taste 
and is exceedingly generous.” 

106 


WHAT WAITED AROUND THE CURVE. lO/ 

Kezzie had agreed with her at the time, 
but she was inclined to reconsider the latter 
adjective at a later date, when the bill for 
these same tasteful articles was sent by the 
tradesman to Mr. Driscoll for payment. 

There were rooms to put in order once 
more, and some changes to make after the 
removal of Celia’s belongings ; but in a few 
days the current of domestic life was again 
flowing evenly, and Kezzie began to plan 
for her own trip. 

“I think I will go to Cousin Marion’s next 
week, papa, if you are willing,” she said, 
one evening, as he leaned back in an easy- 
chair near her. 

“To Cousin Marion’s?” he repeated, ab- 
sently. 

“Yes. Don’t you remember? You said 
I might go with Celia for a change, and I 
decided to go to Cousin Marion’s instead.” 

“ I had forgotten. Well, I suppose it might 
as well be next week as any time. When- 
ever you choose.” 

He looked weary ; perhaps he was think- 
ing that he was the only one of the family 
who was never supposed to need change or 


io8 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


rest. He said nothing of the kind, however, 
but after a moment aroused himself to talk 
kindly with Kezzie of the best route to take. 
How gray the hair had grown about his tem- 
ples, and what a worn, almost sad, look his 
face had in repose ! Kezzie noticed it while 
they were talking, but recalled it more vivid- 
ly when she sat in her own room. Did it 
trouble him any to have her go away ? she 
wondered. Was there any reason why it 
should ? She could think of none ; it was 
only a silly fancy. She was not so import- 
ant that she could not be spared for a few 
weeks, and the expense certainly could not 
be a matter of much consequence to her 
father. Probably he was tired — that was all ; 
and then he was growing older, of course, 
as every one must, though she did not like 
to think of him as losing any of his strength 
or vigor. She wished he would not work 
so hard. Then, with a little sigh, she dis- 
missed the subject. 

Whatever Aunt Nene had thought of the 
need of a journey, it was a rosy, animated 
face that graced the pretty gray traveling- 
wraps on the morning of departure and 


WHAT WAITED AROUND THE CURVE. IO9 

smiled a “ Good-bye ” from the carriage 
Sydney had brought in which to take her 
to the station. She was but a young girl, 
and the bright, fresh morning, the com- 
fortable consciousness of her tasteful, quiet 
traveling-appointments and the pleasurable 
excitement of going to new scenes had their 
natural effect upon her spirits. Besides, was 
she not going to settle all vexing and trou- 
blesome questions at Cousin Marion’s ? So, 
when she met the girls, Fannie and Sue, at 
the station, she chatted and laughed merrily 
with them and with Sydney. They saw her 
established in a desirable seat, and then she 
threw up the window and talked with them 
until the last minute. 

It was only when they were left behind 
and the train was sweeping on its way 
that she bestowed any notice upon her 
fellow-passengers. There was nothing un- 
usual about them. The woman with two 
or three children, including a baby, and no 
one to help her care for them ; the man 
with the slouched hat drawn low over his 
face and seeming to doze perpetually ; the 
anxious elderly lady with the large basket; 


no 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


the girl from the country bound for the city 
with the story of ignorance and poverty 
plainly written in face and dress ; the fresh 
arrivals; and the jaded-looking “through- 
passengers," — all were represented. 

The car was not crowded. Kezzie con- 
gratulated herself upon that fact; she could 
enjoy a whole seat undisturbed. Then, in 
the inner quiet made by the rattle around 
her, soberer thoughts came back. Not quite 
such perplexed and weary ones as she had 
known a few weeks earlier, for the rule “ Old 
Simms " had given had, in truth, simplified 
many things for her. Having to hear all 
voices and judge between their diverse 
sayings was a difficult matter; having to 
hear but one voice and let all others pass 
made the way clearer. She was learning 
that so indeed she did drop many “tangles." 

Presently the crisp air that had been de- 
lightful when she stood out in the sunshine 
grew chilled and unpleasant as it swept in 
upon her mingled with dust and smoke. 
She attempted to close her window ; it had 
been raised easily enough, but, with the per- 
versity natural to car- windows, it refused to 


WHAT WAITED AROUND THE CURVE. Ill 

come down again. She pulled and pushed 
in vain. 

“Allow me,” said a voice behind her. An 
arm in a coat-sleeve was reached forward 
from the next seat, and a strong hand 
wrestled for a moment with the refractory 
sash and closed it with a bang. 

Kezzie turned with a word and glance of 
thanks, and recognized a face she had met 
before. For a minute she could not re- 
member where she had seen it, and then 
she recalled the camp- meeting at the grove 
and the stranger whose dark eyes had met 
hers so reprovingly once, so kindly after- 
ward. Her face flushed a little. Did he 
recognize her also ? she wondered. She 
hoped not ; she did not care to recall that 
day. Then she began to consider what 
she had been talking and laughing about 
with Sydney and the girls just before she 
started. Some nonsense, probably, and this 
gentleman must have been near enough to 
hear it all. If he recognized her — and very 
likely he remembered the whole party — he 
would think her only a frivolous girl with 
little soul or brains. Well, Jt did not mat- 


II2 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


ter much what a mere stranger thought of 
her. She drew herself up a little proudly, 
but the flush again swept over her cheek. 
It did matter. She wanted — she ought — to 
seem something different from that to every 
one. And then she checked the thought 
midway, and suddenly bowed her head on 
her hand. 

“ Oh, I don’t want to seem at all. I am 
so tired of seeming ! I want to be good and 
true and right through and through. O 
Father, make me so!” she prayed. 

Kezzie was unused to traveling alone, 
but any feeling of anxiety upon that point 
lessened when she discovered who was her 
fellow-traveler. She could rely upon him 
for direction or assistance in any emer- 
gency, she decided ; and she rested upon 
that assurance with a confidence singular 
enough, since it related to one even whose 
name was unknown to her. She did not 
consider that, however, or realize that her 
estimate of his character was founded less 
upon the aid he had once offered her than 
upon the glance he had bestowed upon her 
and her party when they disturbed that 


WHAT WAITED AROUND THE CURVE. II3 

morning service — a glance that had so 
awakened her mortification and resentment. 

The moving panorama of hill and low- 
land swept by the window. Trees with 
some lingering traces of the late autumn 
glory upon them, brown fields and hillsides 
brightened now and then by a sudden flame 
of scarlet vine or glow of yellow bushes, — 
Kezzie’s thoughtful eyes watched them all. 
The landscape would be changed when she 
came home again. What would the winter 
bring to her — to herself and to her home ? 
she wondered, with thoughts running back 
anxiously to Tom, Sydney and the children. 
The hours passed, people came and went, 
the train stopped for dinner and then rolled 
on again. The afternoon was drawing near 
the gray of twilight. The passengers slept 
or read in serene faith that conductor, en- 
gineer and fireman knew what ought to be 
done and were doing it. 

“ How long before we reach Glenville 
Junction ?” asked a man as the conductor 
came through the car. 

“ Forty minutes,” was the prompt reply. 

“ Then we’ll be at Lexington in sixty 
8 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


II4 


minutes,” remarked another man to his 
companion as the officer passed out. 

Kezzie looked at her watch and counted 
how many hours must elapse before she 
met Marion. No Deo volente attached to 
any observation ; perhaps it scarcely en- 
tered any thought. 

Kezzie arranged a shawl in a corner of 
her seat, and, leaning back against it, 
watched the outside world while she might. 
It would soon be time for lighting lamps. 
The restless baby in its mother’s arms be- 
gan a fretful, wailing cry : it was tired with 
the long journey. She tried to quiet it 
with soothing words, and to cheer the other 
children, who were weary also : 

“We’ll soon be there now.” 

“ Will we come to the big city with all 
the lights pretty soon ?” piped a little boy’s 
voice. 

Kezzie smiled at the childish question. 
What a gray mist was beginning to settle 
over stream and hill ! It seemed settling 
ovef her reverie too, and she closed her 
eyes for a minute. Suddenly there was a 
warning shriek of the steam-whistle, a sharp, 


j 


WHAT WAITED AROUND THE CURVE, II5 

fierce call thrice repeated. The road grew 
rough, there was a peculiar irregular grat- 
ing motion. Men sprang to their feet and 
started toward the door, but they were 
stopped by a jar and a crash. Exclama- 
tions and screams mingled for one horrible 
moment, while the car tipped and then went 
reeling and plunging into some unknown 
depth. * 

When Kezzie became clearly conscious 
of anything more — it might have been an 
hour or it might have been only a minute : 
she did not know — she found herself crowd- 
ed into a narrow space with broken seats 
and other debris piled above and around 
her. She tried to throw it off, and some 
one assisted her, making a way through the 
wreck and rubbish until presently she stood 
free in the gray twilight. It had been but 
a few minutes, after all. 

“Are you hurt?” asked the voice that 
had once or twice before that day spoken 
to her. 

Kezzie looked up and recognized the 
speaker. He it was who had helped to 
free her, then ? He was pale and the blood 


Il6 TANGLES AND COE NETS. 

trickled from a cut on his forehead. She 
looked at him and then at herself in a 
dazed, bewildered way. 

“No, I think not; only bruised,” she an- 
swered, slowly. “ What has happened ?” 

“We were thrown from the track and 
down the embankment,” he answered, hur- 
riedly. “Not the whole train, fortunately. 
Can you walk to that little house over 
there ? I must go and see what I can do 
for others.” 

Kezzie looked after him as he hastened 
away, then up to the ridge above her, along 
which ran the track. Several cars were 
standing there, one on the very verge of 
the hill. It was a steep descent, but a short 
one : that explained how any one had es- 
caped. If it had happened a little farther 
back, where those deep gorges were ! 

Kezzie shuddered and again turned her 
eyes toward the wreck. The engine and 
two coaches lay there, shattered and useless. 
She found a seat upon a stone and leaned 
back against a broken tree, weak and trem- 
bling, while she watched the groups that 
came and went. 


WHAT WAITED AROUND THE CURVE. 11 / 

“A lot of stones and rubbish had slid on 
to the track, and it was just around the 
curve, you see,” said a man passing near 
her; “so it was not seen till the engine was 
nigh about on it — too late to stop till the 
first of the train went over. A good thing 
the couplings broke, or they’d all have gone 
and there’d have been a dreadful smaLh-up.” 

People poured down from the cars above. 
There were few others near, for the disaster 
had occurred in a lonely spot. There were 
many strong and eager hands, however, and 
they worked swiftly, despoiling the wreck 
of its prisoners. It was only when she saw 
ladies moving about here and there that the 
thought of any possible aid she could render 
suggested itself to Kezzie. She had been 
too bewildered for a time to think clearly 
of anything, but she arose then, and walked 
down toward the band of workers — slowly, 
for the first movement brought conscious- 
ness that she had been severely bruised by 
the fall. 

Lanterns and torches were already flash- 
ing through the deepening gloom, but the 
work had slackened before she reached the 


Il8 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

place, and some were turning away. Two 
or three persons limped by ; others passed 
with heads or hands bound up in handker- 
chiefs ; and then came a motionless form 
borne by others. Again Kezzie shuddered 
and drew back. A light flashed full upon 
her, and revealed her stranger-acquaintance 
near her with a child in his arms. Terror 
and loneliness had so usurped the preroga- 
tives of time that this was beginning to seem 
an acquaintanceship of long standing. 

“ Did you not find the house ?” he ques- 
tioned, pausing beside her. 

“ I did not go far ; I thought I might be 
of use here, and came back.” 

“No, there is nothing more to be done — 
at least, here. They are all out now, and 
are going to that building up beyond the 
track,” he answered. “ It is a station or a 
store-house — I do not quite know what — 
but it will be a shelter.” 

There was need of one, for the heavy 
mist was changing into a slow rain. He 
looked more keenly into her white face : 

“You are not able to walk. If you will 
lean upon my arm — ” 


WHAT WAITED AROUND THE CURVE. 1 19 

“ No, oh no ! Do not think of me. You 
are burdened already,” she said. “One foot 
is injured a little — sprained, I think — but I 
can use it by walking slowly. I need 
trouble no one ; there are others who 
need your help.” 

He answered only by hastening forward a 
short distance, relinquishing the child to 
some one else, and then returning for her. 

“Are there many wounded ?” she asked 
as with his assistance she slowly ascended 
the hill. 

“ Not many, seriously.” He divined the 
other question that trembled on her lips, 
and answered it : “ Three were killed.” 

Even as he spoke another torch flashed 
past them, and three men followed bear- 
ing something at which Kezzie did not 
look — which she was glad the dim light 
did not force her to see. She trembled 
as it passed, and her companion sought 
to turn her attention to another point: 

“ It is wonderful that so many were but 
slightly injured. There will be help sent 
out from the next town soon, and we shall 
be able to go on.” 


120 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


It was a strange and motley gathering 
of which she found herself a part when 
she reached the house on the hillside — a 
long, low building whose only furnishing 
was a huge rusty stove and a few wooden 
chairs in all stages of decrepitude. A lan- 
tern and two or three smoky lamps fastened 
high up on the rough walls cast but a dull 
light over the bare room and the groups of 
people standing in little knots or clustered 
in various attitudes upon improvised seats 
of baskets, boxes, wraps and traveling- 
bags, while they talked in low but eager 
tones. 

There were so many different recitals of 
the event — of what had befallen this one 
and that one, of what each had thought, 
imagined or felt in the one horrible mo- 
ment when the accident occurred, and of 
the condition in which they had found 
themselves afterward, with the way in which 
they had escaped — that there seemed no 
end- to the exchange of experiences. An 
hour before, they had been strangers going 
each his separate way, with little knowledge 
or care for one another ; but all that was 


WHAT WAITED AROUND THE CURVE. 1 21 

forgotten now. Common peril and mis- 
fortune had wrought a sudden but strong 
fellowship of interest and sympathy. Kind- 
ly words and offices were exchanged on 
every hand. 

But all voices were lowered and the 
speakers turned with grave, pitying glances 
whenever the door was opened into the 
smaller room beyond. Couches had been 
hastily formed of the car seats and cushions 
for the few seriously wounded, and farther 
back lay three still forms that tender hands 
had mercifully covered from sight. It was 
marvelous how those esteemed so common- 
place and uninteresting but a little while be- 
fore had been suddenly uplifted by that mys- 
terious dignity which death and suffering 
confer. The thought and the attention of 
all centred upon them now, and every foot- 
step grew reverent as it approached. The 
lonely, awkward country girl who a little 
way back might have been glad of any 
help or advice concerning the new home 
she sought had now no need of either : she 
had journeyed swiftly on beyond all earth- 
ly knowledge in that brief twilight. The 


122 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


child who had been only a funny little ob- 
ject, with his faded cap and coarse woolen 
scarf, nobody thought of smiling at since 
the rosy face had turned to marble : he 
had found “the great city and all the lights.” 

His mother sat beside him moaning : 

“ Oh, my boy ! It can’t be he is dead ! How 
can I tell his father, that’s been working and 
waiting for us to come so long ? How can 
I meet John and tell him ?” 

Kezzie longed to comfort her, but she was 
dumb. She took the fretting baby and pres- 
ently soothed it to sleep in her arms, but she 
could only watch the mother with compas- 
sionate eyes. There was also another whom 
she watched — a man who, it was whispered 
in the outer room, could not live until the 
morning. She could not have spoken to 
him, yet there were some who did know 
what to say even in an hour like that, who 
had for him some message of hope and 
strength. She heard it in their earnest 
tones as they talked with him and saw it 
in his wistful eyes, that followed them 
whenever they turned away. One of these 
was her acquaintance, Mr. Kendall. 


WHAT WAITED AROUND THE CURVE. 1 23 

“Robert Kendall, at your service,” he had 
informed her, with a smile, when she hesi- 
tated and paused in addressing him. 

Leaning back against the rude wall watch- 
ing the groups around her, she asked why 
she had been linked so suddenly with all 
this terror, pain and loneliness, and forced 
to stop here and think. Long afterward 
she understood that in that enforced pause 
the Lord had met her by the way as cer- 
tainly as he had met Saul of old, and that 
from thence she too had been sent forward 
to the city to find an answer to the question, 
grown at last supreme by that night’s ex- 
perience, “ Lord, what wilt thou have me 
to do?” Considerations that all her life 
had swayed her as important shrank into 
insignificance in that hour, while other things 
that had seemed far away and dim confront- 
ed her as near and vital. Life’s whole per- 
spective changed from that standpoint. 

Outside, the rain fell steadily. People 
passed in and out, bringing reports of the 
weather and theories, since definite infor- 
mation was meagre, concerning the time 
that must probably elapse before the ar- 


124 TA ANGLES AND CORNERS. 

rival of the engine and cars by which they 
could proceed on their way. After a time 
some one passed through the room care- 
fully collecting names and addresses. The 
railroad company would telegraph any mes- 
sages to friends. Kezzie wrote one line to 
be sent backward and forward — home and 
to her cousin : “ Kezzie Driscoll is safe.” 

She wondered half dreamily as she wrote 
it how many of those who knew her best 
could have confidently uttered the same 
words if that still form yonder, that of 
the dead girl, had been hers ? 

How long do you think it will be be- 
fore we can go on ?” she asked Mr. Ken- 
dall as he brought her a cup of coffee, the 
fruit of a tiresome foraging expedition to 
a house perched far up on the hillside. 

“ I cannot tell. They have sent men 
down on hand-cars from the next station, 
and they are removing the wreck ; but 
they do not seem to know when a train 
will come.” 

It seemed a long time — longer than the 
whole day of journeying had been — that 
they sat huddled around the fire in that 


WHAT WAITED AROUND THE CURVE. 1 25 

cheerless room, shiverinor from the drano^ht 
whenever the outer door was opened; 
shivering at the moaning cry that reached 
them nowand then as the inner door swung 
softly back ; listening to the dreary drip of 
the rain and talking in low voices. 

After a while some one began to sing — 
at the request, perhaps, of the wounded 
man, who, however long the others might 
wait, w'OLild soon be away now on the 
journey that knows no return. Other 
voices took up the words until they swell- 
ed in full chorus, and pain, cold, weariness 
and sadness were half forgotten. Home- 
ly faces grew earnest and tender, and rug- 
ged faces softened as they sang of the 
“ sweet by and by ” beyond the gloom. 
“ Tell me the old, old story ” followed, 
and then : 

“ We’re going home, we’re going home, 

We’re going home to-morrow !” 

Simple, familiar tunes and words that every- 
body knew — as everybody in these days 
does know the much-criticised, much-de- 
cried Sunday-school music that yet is sing- 


126 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

ing the gospel to the very ends of the 
earth. 

At last there came a bustling and the 
sound of hurrying feet outside the door : 
the train so long expected was coming. 
There was a little stir and movement in 
the inner room, a sudden hush around the 
couch of the wounded man : the Messen- 
ger had come. A slow, grave procession 
filed quietly out of the old building, bear- 
ing their dead with them. Low-spoken 
good-byes were exchanged as they sepa- 
rated for the different cars, that would con- 
vey them to their respective destinations, 
and in a few minutes they were again 
speeding on their way. 

Not as they were before. 

Who of them could overcome the feel- 
ing, as they rushed on through the dark- 
ness, that some chasm was yawning in the 
darkness just before them? — that death was 
lurking just around every curve? Once, 
in a momentary lull of the rattle and roar, 
Kezzie caught some words hummed near 
her, and wished she could share the calm 
faith they expressed: 


WHAT WAITED AROUND THE CURVE. 12/ 


‘ I’ll go and come, 
Nor fear to die 
Till from on high 
He calls me home,’* 


The night waned and the east grew gray 
with the first dull promise of the morning. 
Mr. Kendall came to Kezzie's side. Since 
he had learned that she was alone, and 
especially since her sprained ankle had be- 
come so swollen and painful, he had unob- 
trusively, but very watchfully, made her his 
especial charge, anticipating her wants and 
rendering needed assistance, yet endeavor- 
ing to save her from any sense of obligation 
or dependence that might be unpleasant. 
He had been talking for a few minutes 
with a gentleman farther back in the car. 

“ Miss Driscoll, you think there is no 
doubt that your friends will meet you when 
you reach the city he asked. 

“ Oh no ; I am sure they will be watching 
for me,” she answered, looking up wonder- 
ingly. 

“ I had hoped to have seen you safely in 
their care — your foot will trouble you if 
there should be any delay or any diffi- 


128 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

culty in finding them — but I find that a 
matter of business will make it necessary 
for me to stop until afternoon at a sta- 
tion this side of the central depot,” he 
explained. . 

“ Thank you for thinking of me, and for 
all your kindness : I do not know what I 
should have done without it,” she said, earn- 
estly. “ But you need not be at all trou- 
bled on my account now: I am sure my 
friends will meet me.” 

“You needn’t worry about the young 
lady, sir,” said a man wearing a shaggy 
overcoat and sitting directly in front of 
them, turning toward them a rough, weather- 
beaten but kindly face as he spoke, He 
had a sleeping child on his knee, coaxed 
across the aisle from its tired mother. “ I’m 
going on to Lancaster myself, and I’ll look 
after her baggage and see her safe with 
her friends if they’re anywhere there- 
abouts. We have all gone through too 
much together not to feel like helping 
one another now. That’s what I think 
about it.” 

So Kezzie bade her friend of twenty-four 


WHAT WAITED AROUND THE CURVE. 1 29 

hours — hours that seemed like months in 
retrospect — “Good-bye/' and half an hour 
later, in the gray of the early morning, 
found herself in Marion’s arms. 


CHAPTER VI. 


A QUIET FIRESIDE CORNER. 

I N Marion Grey’s pretty room, where a 
bright fire crackled and sparkled, and 
where the sunshine smiled in upon her 
through the vines arid flowering plants in 
the window, Kezzie nestled among the pil- 
lows of a lounge a morning later. 

“ Enjoying the very essence of luxurious 
invalidism,” she said, laughingly. 

The shock she had received, together 
with her sprained ankle, bade fair to enforce 
Aunt Nene’s parting injunction : “ Don’t 
run about all the time as if your life de- 
pended on seeing everything within seeing 
distance, but make a quiet visit and try to 
get rested.” 

A very quiet visit the greater part of it 
seemed likely to prove; and Kezzie con- 
gratulated herself upon that fact as she lay 

130 


A QUIET FIRESIDE CORNER. I3I 

there with gaze wandering idly over pict- 
ures, brackets and blossoms. There was 
something restful in the very atmosphere 
of Marion’s home. 

‘‘ I am glad you are not suffering, but I 
fear, with that poor foot, we shall not be 
able to show you much of our outside world 
while you stay,” said her cousin, coming in 
presently and sitting down beside her. 

It is the inside world I want you to show 
me about,” answered Kezzie, wistfully. 

She had secretly hoped for a long talk 
that very morning, but any such plan was 
frustrated by the ringing of the door-bell, 
and a minute later a caller entered — one 
too familiar with the house to await any 
formal announcement. 

^ Marion sprang up with an exclamation 
of surprise and pleasure : 

“ Oh, I didn’t know you were in town !” 
Then she turned to Kezzie : “Cousin Rob- 
ert — Frank’s cousin, Mr. Kendall — ” 

But the ceremony of introduction ended 
abruptly. Kezzie had uttered his name 
with extended hand, and he was already 
beside her lounge: 


132 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

Miss Driscoll !” 

“You know each other?” said Marion 
wonderingly. “Why, where — Oh, I re- 
member. It is really not far from your 
home, Kezzie, where Robert has been stay- 
ing this fall; but I never thought of it 
before.” 

“I did not know it. We were in the 
same car the night Miss Driscoll came — 
the night of the accident,” he explained. If 
he remembered any earlier meeting, he did 
not allude to it. 

“And you were there too ?” Marion's 
cheek paled a little. “None of us thought 
of that; we were not expecting you so 
soon. Oh, Robert, I am glad your mother 
did not know.” 

“ I am glad there was no need for her to 
know.” Then he turned to Kezzie again: 
“And these are the friends to whom you 
were coming ? It is strange I did not ask 
their name, when I know so many people 
here. That , would have established our ac- 
quaintanceship at once.” 

“You could not have been more kind, in 
any case,” said Kezzie, slightly flushing. — 


A QUIET FIRESIDE CORNER. 1 33 

“You remember my telling you, Marion, 
how much I was indebted to a stranger — ” 

“And did not tell me his name,” laughed 
Marion. “ However, it is not strange that 
anything should have been overlooked or 
forgotten in such a time as that,” she added, 
gravely. 

The conversation naturally turned upon 
that night and its incidents, and some de- 
tails were fully explained to Marion, but 
briefly, for Kezzie shrank from recalling the 
scene too vividly ; it was so recent that she 
yet lived it over in her dreams. Then the 
caller would have taken his leave, but again 
the door-bell sounded, and Marion was sum- 
moned from the room. 

“ Wait a few minutes, please. Cousin 
Robert. I want to send a message to 
your mother,” she said. “ I want her to 
spend an entire day with us soon. En- 
tertain my poor little prisoner, here, until 
I return.” 

But Kezzie did not wait to be enter- 
tained. She had determined, since she 
had learned who the visitor was, upon set- 
tling one point in the past, and she seized 


134 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

this first opportunity. Her cheeks flushed 
a little, but she said bravely, 

“ I think I met you once near my home, 
Mr. Kendall, at a camp-meeting?” 

“Yes,” he answered, promptly; “I re- 
member.” 

Of course he remembered all, then. She 
felt the hot blood in her face, but she look- 
ed up frankly : 

“I want to ask you about that day. You 
enjoyed it?” 

“ I did, assuredly. The services were 
simple and earnest. I could join in them 
heartily, and I enjoyed that quiet, restful 
day.” 

“ I did not.” 

“ No ; I observed that in your face when 
I first saw you. I think,” smiling a little, 
“ that the day was scarcely either quiet or 
restful to you ?” 

“No, it was not,” she admitted, honestly. 
“ But why wasn’t it ? That is — ” checking 
herself hastily as she remembered her com- 
panions, “ One reason why I could enjoy 
nothing thoroughly was because of an un- 
easy conscience at being there at all. Yet 


A QUIET FIRESIDE CORNER. 1 35 

why should I have felt so, when you and 
others who were there — I am sure, from 
their whole look and manner — found in 
it real comfort and worship ? Why should 
it have been wrong for me, any more than 
for others ?” 

“ There might be many reasons for that. 
I think conscience seldom protests without 
reason,” he answered, thoughtfully. “ I 
went because I was interested in the ob- 
ject of the meeting, and because it was 
the most convenient place of worship 
for myself and my friends, who ^fdo not 
live near any church. You went be- 
cause — Pardon me. I am only surmis- 
ing, but I fancy your party went because 
of the novelty. Perhaps you left your 
proper church-home and its duties be- 
hind you. A long pleasant ride from town 
in company, a day of picnicking in the 
woods, and watching a motley crowd col- 
lected for a service somewhat out of the 
common order, were the attractions. It 
was a going to see and hear, not to par- 
ticipate. There can be no fixed rule ; and 
it is not, after all, a question of place — 


136 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

whether ‘in this mountain or at Jerusalem ’ 
be best ; many considerations must decide 
that — but of going as worshipers ‘ in spirit 
and in truth/ ” 

“And you think that only wrong and 
harm could come of going in any other 
way ?’* she questioned, trying to decide 
whether that had really been the root of 
her unrest. 

“ No, I do not say that,*^ he answered, 
quickly. “Though it does not lessen any 
wrong in the motive or the manner of 
going, yet certainly good may still be 
wrought. We cannot tell how often it 
is so. A thought may be awakened that 
will never sleep again.” 

A sudden remembrance of that after- 
noon Sunday-school into which she stray- 
ed so thoughtlessly, and from which dated 
all her questionings on this subject, flashed 
upon Kezzie, and she was silent. Marion 
came back, and the conversation ended. 
Kezzie afterward remembered that, how- 
ever kind and courteous Mr. Kendall had 
been, his words had not in the least apolo- 
gized for or contradicted the reproof in his 


A QUIET FIRESIDE CORNER, 1 37 

glance when he turned toward her party 
that day. 

** I am glad of it,” she whispered to her- 
self after a few minutes of grave thought. 

She liked to watch the life in her cousin’s 
home. She had ample opportunity for it 
in those days when she could only vibrate 
between the lounge and the easy-chair in 
which they drew her about from room to 
room. There was a serene brightness about 
Marion Grey that sometimes made her seem 
to the girl like an embodied Peace. Once 
she said so. 

Oh no !” Marion exclaimed, with a curi- 
ous blending of surprise, pleasure and pain 
in her voice ; “ I am not that : I wish I were. 
But it does seem as if peace is intended for 
our heritage if we will only take possession 
of it: ‘Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace 
whose mind is stayed on thee ‘And let the 
peace of God rule in your heart.’ Above 
all the vexings that come and go, that must 
rule, be dominant — the great, full ‘ peace of 
God.’ Think of it, Kezzie ! Christ says, 

‘ Peace I leave with you, my peace I give 
unto you.’ And we are told of ‘ peace that 


138 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

is as a river.’ I think we are too often con- 
tent with only a tiny stream. Every pebble 
and leaf and twig chokes and frets it, but 
the great deep river bears heavier burdens 
as but mere specks on its surface and calm- 
ly flows on its course.” 

Kezzie sighed. It was a blessedness that 
seemed so unattainable as her thoughts flew 
back to her own home, where there were so 
many things that she could see no way to 
set right. It was different with Marion, she 
concluded; she could shape her life and her 
home as she wished. Her husband shared 
her views and feelings, and her two children 
were so young as to be guided entirely by 
her. She watched the sweet, bright life day 
by day, and decided that there were no 
obstacles in its path. 

Still, there were times when Marion puz- 
zled her. 

“ Now,” said her cousin, coming in with a 
work-basket one morning, I have brought 
my sewing, and we will have a nice visit. 
Don’t you want to help me make button- 
holes in these little aprons?” 

For Robbie and Taddie ?” asked Kezzie, 


A QUIET FIRESIDE CORNER. 1 39 

surveying the stout gingham a little won- 
deringly as she fitted a thimble on her 
finger. 

“No; for a neighbor — a woman who lives 
around on the other street. ‘ Our back- 
door neighbors ’ Frank calls that whole row 
of small houses, because they are built on 
lots that run back to our alley. She has 
several little children, and she is obliged to 
work so hard to earn money to buy their 
clothing that she has little time to spare for 
making it up. I offered to do these for her, 
and I have finished the machine work ; the 
buttonholes will complete them. Then I 
want you to help me choose some pretty 
Christmas cards for the mission school ; 
Frank sent up a large package for me to 
select from. You see, I have counted upon 
your help to-day.'* 

Kezzie promised it gladly. 

“ I thought we could have a nice, quiet 
time together the most of the day," con- 
tinued Marion. “I must try to run out for 
a little while this afternoon to see a sick 
girl — one of that same mission class." 

But the buttonholes were scarcely under 


140 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

way before a vigorous peal of the door-bell 
and a sound of several voices in the hall 
announced an interruption of no small di- 
mensions — a wagon-load of relations from 
the country. They had come in to make a 
variety of purchases, and Mrs. Grey’s house 
was, of course, to be headquarters. 

‘“The best-laid plans of mice and men,”’ 
Marion quoted, softly, with a significant 
smile, as she passed Kezzie to assist her 
guests in laying off their wraps, and then 
went down to give orders about dinner, 
which, for their accommodation, must be 
somewhat earlier than usual. They made 
considerable bustle. John must go here 
and Maria there, and they must start home 
at five o’clock. 

Kezzie viewed them only as an interrup- 
tion, and did not particularly enjoy their 
society. She wondered that Marion could 
be so gracious and cordial, when her plans 
for the day were so completely spoiled. 
True, her nimble fingers worked busily on 
the little aprons whenever she could catch 
them up for a few minutes, but such inter- 
vals were few. How could she listen with 


A QUIET FIRESIDE CORNER. I4I 

SO much interest to the long story of John’s 
rheumatism, and enter with such seeming 
heartiness into the discussion over a sack 
for Baby and of the question of how little 
Sue’s new dress should be made, to say 
nothing of hunting over her cook-book for 
the recipe for a particular kind of sweet 
pickle ? 

The aprons were unfinished, the Christ- 
mas cards unexamined. She did go out 
for a little while in the afternoon, but it was 
to assist in selecting exactly the right piece 
of alpaca for a dress for Aunt Hannah, who 
had sent for one because she could not 
come herself, and wanted “ a good quality, 
good lustre and good black,” and who ex- 
pected to “pay only so much a yard, and 
not a cent more,” and wanted Marion to 
“ pick it out ” “ because she knows a good 
piece of goods when she sees one.” By the 
time the shopping was accomplished and 
the country wagon again on its homeward 
way, the afternoon also had departed. 

“And you didn’t even have a chance to 
call on that sick girl,” said Kezzie, sympa- 
thizing and regretful. 


142 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

“ No ; it was growing so late that I found 
I shouldn’t have time ; so perhaps I did a 
better thing,” answered Marion, thought- 
fully : “ I met another of those mission- 

school girls on the street, told her what I 
had intended, and sent her instead with my 
love and a promise of going another day. 
It is a very good thing for those girls to 
learn to care for one another ; and, besides, 
it will give the sick girl two calls instead of 
one. 

“ But to have your whole afternoon 
spoiled for such a trifling thing as picking 
out a dress like that! It was too bad!” 
said Kezzie. 

“‘Trifling’!” Marion laughed. “I’m glad 
Aunt Hannah did not hear you. My dear 
child, you have very little idea what a new 
dress means to her — how she has made 
butter, knit stockings and sold eggs to earn 
the money, and worked and planned for it 
these many months past. It will be her 
best dress for church, for weddings and for 
funerals for many a day to come, and when 
it is past her wearing any longer it will have 
to be ‘ made over ’ for somebody else ; so, 


A QUIET FIRESIDE CORNER. 1 43 

you see, it is of no small importance that it 
should be of good quality and color. Dear 
old Aunt Hannah! I can see just how she 
will look at it through her spectacles and 
over her spectacles, and hold it up in folds, 
and smooth it with her rough brown fingers. 
Uncle Eben will have to examine it too, and 
every one of the family, even to Nancy in 
the kitchen. No, indeed! I wouldn't have 
her disappointed. I was glad to help choose 
it, and to send a pretty collar to wear with 
it — fine, but plain, such as she will like.” 

“Well!” Kezzie relented toward the 
dress. “ But it wasn’t only that one thing : 
your whole plan for the day was set aside — 
a plan for good, useful work, too. It is that 
which makes these interruptions seem too 
bad.” 

“‘Good, useful work’!” Marion repeated 
the words with a thoughtful smile. “ Whose 
work was it, Kezzie ?” 

Kezzie looked at her a moment to catch 
her meaning. 

“ God’s, I suppose,” she answered, slowly. 

“And what if he sets it aside and gives- 
us some other instead? We believe in prov- 


144 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

idence — that God cares for and orders 
even all the little happenings of our daily 
lives. Are his plans of so much less conse- 
quence than ours that we should call them 
interruptions ? We may mistake in what we 
plan for ourselves, but it seems very certain 
that what he puts directly into our hands is 
what he wants us to do. The rheumatism 
and the aprons of our relatives may be of 
quite as much importance, after all, as those 
of strangers. It took me a long time to 
learn that,” added Marion, laughing; “so 
Fm giving you the benefit of my experience. 
The truth is these little things that come to 
us are so evidently duties that we always 
expect to do them, and everybody else ex- 
pects it of us ; they bring us little of self 
or other commendation, and we are often 
inclined to hurry them over impatiently as 
only hindrances to some task that we have 
set for ourselves outside — something that 
seems more like a work of supererogation, 
and so makes us better satisfied with our- 
selves. That is only the berry-seller’s de- 
vice, you see — crowding up the bottom of 
the box so that each scant quart may make 


A QUIET FIRESIDE CORNER. 1 45 

a heaped measure. It looks tempting, but 
there is really no more fruit.” 

She had again taken up the little apron, 
and was working swiftly while she talked. 

Kezzie smiled as she remembered some 
of those afternoons with the children which 
had troubled her as “ hindrances ” even 
while she could not feel it right to put them 
aside for any other work. How differently 
Marion would have viewed them ! The smile 
of relief was quenched in a sigh, however, 
as with the thought of her homedife came 
also the thought of so many of its features 
that made her troubled and anxious, while 
she saw no way to make them right. 

‘‘ It is very sweet to think in that way of 
all the homely, common work that crowds 
into our lives,” she said. “ But, oh dear ! 
there are so many worse interruptions to 
doing, or having others do, what seems 
right — so many crooked places that one 
can see no way to make straight.” 

Though she had of late years been but a 
rare visitor in her uncle’s household, Ma- 
rion Grey knew so much of its ways and 
its inmates that she swiftly comprehended 
10 


146 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


— in part, at least — the feeling that prompt- 
ed thought and words. She could not 
question, but after a moment she quoted 
softly : 

“ ‘ The servants are not thine, 

And the Eye which adjudges the praise and the blame 
Sees farther than thine or mine. 

* The Voice that shall sound there at eve, sweetheart. 

Will not raise its tones to be heard ; 

It will hush the earth, and hush all hearts. 

And none will resist its word. ^ 

‘ Gk) back to thy garden-plat, sweetheart — 

Go back till the evening falls. 

And bind thy lilies and train thy vines 
Till for thee the Master calls. 

** ‘ Go make thy garden fair as thou canst : 

Thou workest never alone. 

Perhaps he whose plat is next to thine 
May see it and mend his own. 

* And the next may copy his, sweetheart, 

Till all grows fair and sweet ; 

And when the Master comes, at eve. 

Happy faces his coming may greet. 

“ * Then shall thy joy be full, sweetheart. 

In the garden so fair to see. 

In the Master’s words of praise for all, 

In a look of his own for thee.’ ” 


CHAPTER VII. 


TWO SIDES OF A QUESTION. 

OW,” said Marion one morning, when 



X >1 she had brought in some fresh pa- 
pers and magazines with tempting uncut 
leaves and placed them by Kezzie’s side, 
“ I shall leave you to enjoy these in peace 
for a little time, while I go down stairs 
and hold solemn conclave with Bridget. 
It is Saturday morning, and it requires 
considerable study and planning — to say 
nothing of the cooking afterward — to ar- 
range for a Sunday dinner that shall be 
particularly nice, and yet be so far pre- 
pared to-day that it will not involve too 
much work to-morrow. It must be for 
an extra number, too, for the boys usually 
come on Sunday.’' 

‘ The boys ’?” repeated Kezzie, won- 
deringly. 


147 


148 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

“ Oh, I don’t mean Rob and Taddie,” 
laughed Marion, with a glance through the 
window at the two small bundles of over- 
coats, caps and mittens who were driv- 
ing imaginary steeds through the yard. 
“We call Frank’s brother, his cousin Will 
Dwight, and another — not exactly a cousin 
of ours, but a cousin of Will’s — ‘ the boys.’ 
They are all clerks here in town, with no 
home but a boarding-house, and they have 
a standing invitation to spend Sunday after- 
noon with us.” 

“And they always come on Sunday?” 

There was a scarcely perceptible tone 
of surprise and disappointment in the 
question. 

“Usually. We always expect them then; 
though, of course, they come at other times 
too, when they can. They are away from 
home, you know,” she repeated, in answer 
to that indefinite something in Kezzie’s 
voice. “A room in a boarding-house is 
a lonely and dreary place in which to 
spend the leisure hours. They will be 
sure to seek society somewhere, and it is 
my desire to make a safe and homelike 


TIVO SIDES OF A QUESTION. 1 49 

place for them here ; to do for them what 
I shall wish some Christian woman — some 
mother — to do for my boys if ever they 
are away from home under similar cir- 
j cumstances.” 

Nevertheless, Kezzie pondered the mat- 
ter gravely and with some doubt and dis- 
satisfaction when she was left alone. Sun- 
day visiting — or, at least, Sunday company 
and dinner-parties — she had unhesitatingly 
decided against since she had begun to 
think seriously upon the subject at all : in 
her uncertainty upon many other points, 
she had yet concluded that there could 
be no question upon this one. But here 
was Marion, whose life had always seemed 
so nearly her ideal, and to whom she was 
beginning to look as a guide out of many 
of her tangles — Marion was quietly talking 
of a Sunday dinner-party as if it were the 
most natural thing in the world. Well, 
perhaps three young men could scarcely 
be called a “ party,” but then it was com- 
pany ; and company regularly every Sun- 
day too ! She thought of what Marion had 
said about it. Certainly the reason she gave 


150 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

made it seem a right and a kind thing to 
do, and yet — Kezzie was perplexed ; but, 
nevertheless, she resolved to ask no ques- 
tions, but to await further developments. 

The three “developments” arrived prompt- 
ly the next day, and left their overcoats in 
the hall with a very comfortable and much- 
at-home air. 

“ It is a good thing to get back to civili- 
zation once a week,” laughed one of them, 
rubbing his hands as he stood by the cozy 
parlor fire. 

There was no special effort to entertain 
them as guests. They strayed through the 
rooms, took up books and papers and es- 
tablished themselves in pleasant window- 
nooks or chimney-corners. 

Mr. Grey’s young brother had his little 
nephews at his side at once, and they were 
soon clamoring for a story. 

“Well” — he looked over toward Marion 
with a laugh — “you must wait until I study 
up a good Sunday one, then. Your mam- 
ma won’t let us tell any other kind.” 

“ Certainly not.” Marion answered the 
glance with a smile. 


TfFO SIDES OF A QUESTION. 151 

Kezzie could not hear what he told the 
children, neither did Marion appear to no- 
tice ; but the little faces grew interested 
and earnest as the low voice went on. 

Among the others was a little talk, but 
more reading. The cousin, Will Dwight, 
had some bits of intelligence for Frank and 
Marion, gleaned from his last letters from 
home. 

When dinner-time came, it was evident 
that the planning and the labor in the culi- 
nary department the previous day had been 
successful. “ The boys ” appreciated heart- 
ily and praised lavishly, acting more like 
school-boys home for a vacation than like 
anything else,” Kezzie mentally commented. 

Perhaps one of them read her verdict in 
her eyes, for he looked up with a laugh : 

“ Now, Miss Driscoll, don’t decide that 
there is really nothing of us but an exag- 
gerated appetite. If you could know how 
good Cousin Marion is about remembering 
and treating us to our favorite home-dishes, 
and then could appreciate the peculiar 
characteristics of a boarding-house like 
mine — ” 


152 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

“Or mine/' interposed a second voice.^ 

“ Or mine !" chimed in the third, with 
accumulated emphasis. 

They boarded, as they were employed, 
in different localities, and there followed 
for a minute or two a merry comparison 
of the superior disadvantages of their re- 
spective places. 

“ But, after all, when we think what a 
struggle many of the boarding-house keep-' 
ers have, it is only a wonder that they do 
so well,” interposed Marion. “Widows, 
many of them, left poor, with families to 
support and only the one way open to 
them, they have a hard life. They must 
hire houses on respectable streets and keep 
up a certain sort of style if they wish to se- 
cure any permanent inmates from the bet- 
ter class of people. And they do not get 
rich very fast. I was thinking of a lady to- 
day — she is a lady, boys — who has done her 
best in that occupation, and, now that her 
health has entirely failed, she has absolutely 
nothing to leave to her children. That is 
one thing I wanted to ask you about — one 
of her children. Do any of you know of 


TWO SIDES OF A QUESTION. 153 

any opening for a bright little fellow as 
errand- or cash-boy ? Frank’s store is full, 
with no promise of there being a vacancy 
very soon.” 

The conversation was changed : they were 
interested in the boy and his prospects. Sev- 
eral suggestions were made. Will Dwight 
thought it probable there might be a place 
where he was himself engaged, and prom- 
ised to investigate. 

“I should like that,” said Marion. “You 
could look after him a little then, and keep 
some guard over him. A child pushed 
out into the world in that way needs such 
help.” 

“ Indeed he does !” was the prompt re- 
sponse of Frank’s brother. “ I pity those 
little fellows, and some of the older ones 
too sometimes.” 

He had a story to tell of a little “cash” 
of his acquaintance; and, without any one 
quite knowing how it was done — except, 
perhaps, Marion herself — the talk had drift- 
ed from boarding-house comicalities to the 
little street-waifs, their needs and what the 
mission-school was doing for them. 


154 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

Back in the parlors again, books and 
papers were taken up — magazines and 
weeklies interesting and pure, but some 
of them, Kezzie was sure, not quite what 
Marion would have chosen for that day’s 
reading. No comment was made, how- 
ever. 

A little later, when daylight faded and 
the gas was lighted, Frank opened the 
piano. 

‘‘Now let us have some music,” he 
said. 

“A regular Sunday-night sing,” assented 
his brother. 

It was the Sunday-school music again, 
chiefly — “ I will Sing of my Redeemer.” 
“ Home of the Soul,” and various favorites, 
as one after another called for them, while 
they turned the leaves of the gospel hymns. 

At last the church-bells began to ring, 
and Marion turned from the piano : 

“Now, boys, I must stay at home with 
Kezzie and my little people this evening, 
and I want you to go to church with Frank 
in my place.” 

“Will it take all three of us to atone 


TIVO SIDES OF A QUESTION. 155 

for your absence ?” laughingly queried her 
cousin. 

“All three of you,” she repeated, em- 
phatically. 

They did not object. Perhaps they 
might have gone without her request, but 
she had made their attendance sure. 

“We have had a good time,” they said 
while they were buttoning overcoats and 
drawing on gloves by the cheery fire. 

“I hope you have,” Marion answered, 
in her smiling way, that had yet a tender 
seriousness lurking under it. “I hope it 
will prove so to-morrow, by the test of a 
good old-fashioned rhyme that I learned 
when I was a little girl: 

‘A Sabbath well spent brings a week of content. 

And strength for the toils of the morrow; 

But a Sabbath profaned, whate’er may be gained. 

Is a certain forerunner of sorrow.”” 

“ Mrs. Grey,” said one — the young clerk 
who called himself a “cousin by brevet” — 
softly, “ my last letter from mother told me 
to thank you for watching over her boy, 
and for trying to keep him out of mis- 
chief.” 


156 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

They had seemed so frank, warm-hearted 
and genial that Kezzie liked them all ; still, 
there was something of perplexed thought 
in her face when Marion came back from 
the hall and, seating herself in an easy- 
chair, leaned her head back against its 
cushions. 

“ Tired ?’^ questioned Kezzie. 

“A little,” Marion answered, but with 
a happy brightness in her face, neverthe- 
less. 

“ Having so many here in the after- 
noon, when you go out in the morning 
to church and Sunday-school, makes it a 
hard day for you,” Kezzie said. 

“ Rather, in some ways.” Marion ad- 
mitted it somewhat hesitatingly. “ But you 
do not know just how those boys, and 
many others, are situated in a city like 
this. Frank’s brother would board with 
us if his place of business were not so 
far away. But none of them have homes 
here. They are busy every day in the 
week, and at night go to a boarding-house 
where their only rights are a seat at the 
table and their own room. Sundays are 


TPVO SIDES OF A QUESTION. I $7 

lonely days. Even if they go to church 
in the morning, the long afternoon is be- 
fore them. They grow homesick and dreary 
in their solitary and uninviting little rooms, 
and are sure to saunter out somewhere in 
search of companionship. There is plenty 
of that to be found, but it is often of a poor 
sort and in very undesirable places. Ex- 
cursions and places of amusement, to say 
nothing of saloons, do not refuse to receive 
visitors on Sunday, and there are a host of 
temptations which make the day a critical 
one to that class of young men. I want 
the boys to feel not only that they are wel- 
come here, but that they are expected. I 
only wish I could help others as I am en- 
abled to help them.” 

“Yes, I see,” said Kezzie. “It is a great 
deal better for them to come here. It is 
easy to understand the right and good and 
Sabbath-keeping part of it on their side. 
But then everything does have two sides 
to it, and I was thinking of yours. Sun- 
day ought to be a day of rest.” 

“ But there are so many kinds of rest,” 
Marion answered, exactly as that girl had 


IS8 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

done in the Sabbath-school months before. 
Kezzie remembered it. 

“I am only askingr because I do really 
want to understand about it, Marion ; it 
is one of my tangles,” she said. “I was 
thinking that, whatever it may be to them, 
it makes the day more busy and less rest- 
ful to you and Frank — especially to you. 
It fills up your time, disturbs your quiet, 
and then you cannot make the conversa- 
tion just what you want, or the books that 
are read — ” She interrupted herself there 
with a sudden thought of her own home 
and its inharmonious elements. “Of course, 
if you had a large family or a different house- 
hold, you might not be able to do that even 
in your own circle. In that case you could 
not help it; you could only do your best 
under the circumstances. But your home 
seems in such respects just what you choose 
to have it, and these are not really members 
of it ; you can invite them or not.” 

“ I understand,” said Marion. “ I have 
felt all these disadvantages, and that the 
day is not made exactly what I would like, 
either for myself or for the others. But I 


TPVO SIDES OF A QUESTION. 1 59 

am only working toward an end ; I have 
not reached it. As for the reading, the 
boys do not always choose what I should, 
it is true, but still we have in the house only 
pure literature, and the lightest and most 
secular they can find here may still be bet- 
ter than the best they would find in those 
other places of which I have spoken. If 
all their feelings and inclinations were per- 
fected in the right direction, there would be 
little danger for them anywhere, and it would 
matter little, so far as help to them is con- 
cerned, whether I asked them here or not. 
It is because I am sure they need the influ- 
ence of a Christian home that I am so anx- 
ious to have them come. But it can be 
only influence, not constraint ; they must 
feel that they have freedom here, or they 
will scarcely care to come.” 

She paused and looked into the glowing 
coals for a moment, and then added thought- 
fully : 

“As for * the other side of it,' as you call 
it — my side — I care for the boys and like to 
see them ; yet it would be very pleasant to 
have more quiet hours on Sunday, to spend 


l60 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

the afternoon in reading and thinking, as I 
often long to do, and enjoy the sacred lei- | 

sure to its fullest extent. It would be sweet \ 

and restful, and would save me many dis- 
turbing cares. But, Kezzie, there is such a 
thing as selfish saintliness, a holding of one's 
garments so carefully away from all possible 
stain and soil that it takes both hands, and 
there is none left free for the Master's 
work." 

“ Mamma, we don’t like such long sobery 
talks ; we want somebody to tell something 
to us, 'relse it'll be bedtime pretty soon," 
interposed Taddie, who had kept quiet until j 
his childish stock of patience was exhausted, 1 
and he and little Rob were afraid they might \ 
lose their “ good-night story." j 

Kezzie laughingly yielded to their claim i 
at once, and leaned back in her easy-chair, 
listening half to the conversation between 
mother and children and half to her own ^ 
thoughts. She was gathering some hints 
for home use, until thoughts of that home, 
its doings and its belongings, drew her into 
a reverie that shut out the present. A 
letter from Sydney the day before had in- 


TfVO SIDES OF A QUESTION. l6l 

formed her that everything was progress- 
ing or retrograding very much as usual.” 

“ Celia and Mr. Meredith are home 
again,” he wrote, “ and fairly established in 
their house up town. Everything is in 
good style from ‘ turret to foundation-stone,* 
and is exceedingly characteristic — lofty, stiff, 
elegant and rather cold. Brother Meredith 
says the furnaces do not work quite right, 
but I have an impression that he will never 
find a furnace that can make that atmos- 
phere anything but chilly. They invited 
me to dinner, but I haven’t been yet — don’t 
dare to go until I have read up on pre- 
Adamite man, evolution and a few other 
trifling subjects for table-talk. I saw the 
two small unfortunates. They call Celia 
‘ mamma’ — with the proper emphasis on the 
last syllable, you understand. In fact, the 
whole establishment reminds me of the great 
Strasburg clock, where every puppet pops 
out at exactly the right minute, goes 
through exactly the proper evolution, and 
retires in the proper way. It is a very fine 
piece of mechanism, and it would be silly 
to quarrel with it because it hasn’t a soul. 

11 


1 62 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

Mother is as usual, Aunt Nene more 
than usual, and the children plus and minus 
by turns. Tom has finally given up all pre- 
tence of any employment at the mills — it 
has been nothing but a pretence for months 
— and he is wild about going off to the 
Nevada silver-mines. There has been a 
great deal of talk of it here, you know, 
especially lately — companies formed and 
shares sold — and Tom is in a fever to do 
great things in a hurry, and wants to see 
the ground for himself. 

“ Father doesn’t offer much objection, 
either, I don’t believe he is altogether 
unwilling to have Tom try it. Sometimes 
I can’t help wondering whether the Ontario 
Works are in as prosperous a condition as 
everybody seems to suppose. I don’t know 
anything about it, only father’s looks and 
manner sometimes have made me think of 
it. It may be that he is only a little pressed 
just now. He is that, I am sure. 

“Well, I didn’t mean to write you any- 
thing of the sort ; so don’t go to worrying 
and imagining trouble where there may be 
none, after all. I’ll be glad to have you at 


TPf^O SIDES OF A QUESTION. 163 

home again. Don’t hurr}^, though, for I 
fancy, with your lameness, you must have 
had a somewhat dull time of it so far.” 

Kezzie smiled and sighed over the letter. 
She wanted to be at home again, though 
she shrank from it in some ways. Another 
voice seemed echoing Marion’s words : 

Go back to thy garden-plat, sweetheart, 

Go back till the evening falls.” 


But she had not found her visit dull. She 
was glad, looking back over the weeks, that 
the earlier part of it had been such an en- 
forced quiet. 

“ It is strange how often people cannot 
find time to settle the most important things 
until God makes leisure for them against 
their will,” she said to Marion one day. 

As the injured foot grew stronger, so that 
she was able to use it again, they went 
abroad more. Mrs. Kendall had invited 
them to spend a day with her, and Mar- 
ion, who wished to make some calls in 
the neighborhood, left Kezzie with her friend 
at an early hour, promising to return a little 
later. It was an arrangement to which 


164 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

Kezzie was by no means averse. She had 
already met Mrs. Kendall several times, 
and as she glanced around the pretty, old- 
fashioned parlor, and then at the sweet- 
faced, white-haired old lady, she nestled 
contentedly in her low chair by the bright 
open fire. 

“It seems as if she must have a great 
many things to tell me,” she whispered to 
herself, with a little nod of her bright head» 
“ or that I have a great many questions to 
ask her. I don’t think I should be afraid 
to do it ; I am sure she would understand.” 

Almost the first words opened a way for 
her, and took the conversation quite natu- 
rally away from commonplace topics. 

“ Marion Grey .accomplishes a great deal 
in such ways,” said Mrs. Kendall, referring 
to the calls connected with some mission- 
ary enterprise which Marion had gone to 
make. “ Do you ever undertake that sort 
of work at home, my dear ?” 

“Very little,” Kezzie answered. “I am 
interested in it, but my mother is an invalid, 
you know, and there are several children. 
Since I have begun to think of such things 


TWO SIDES OF A QUESTION. 1 65 

at all, there has not seemed much chance 
for outside work. It worries me, too.” 

“It should not if God has filled your 
hands with other duties,” interposed the 
elder lady’s gentle voice. 

“ But that is what troubles me,” said Kez- 
zie, frankly, looking up with clouded eyes. 
“ What is duty ? My sister Celia is busied 
with so many reforms, missions and benevo- 
lent projects, and I am sure she thinks I 
ought to go with her. I did a few times, 
but then the children and other things were 
neglected in a way that I could not feel was 
right. Yet I am sure the meetings and the 
plans that so interest Celia are good and 
useful — necessary, too — and ought to be 
carried forward.” 

“Undoubtedly,” agreed her companion, 
briefly but unhesitatingly. 

“Well,” pursued Kezzie, with the trouble 
deepening in her face, “that is the point 
where so many things tangle — that what 
looks right on one side doesn’t look right 
on another, and what is duty in one place 
doesn’t seem so in another. It isn’t that 
one thing always, but the whole question 


i66 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


of Sabbath works and rest, that puzzles 
me. If there were any fixed, definite rule 
for everybody — ” 

“‘Remember the sabbath day to keep it 
holy,”’ quoted Mrs. Kendall. 

“ But what is keeping it holy ?” 

“ What does the word itself mean ?” ques- 
tioned Mrs. Kendall, in reply. 

“‘Sacred,’ I suppose,” answered Kezzie, 
thoughtfully pondering a definition — “sa- 
cred to God’s service.” 

“And do you not see that many diverse 
ways and different duties may be that ? It 
does not trouble you that some people wor- 
ship in German, some in French and some 
in English ? or that some people pray with 
prayer-books and some without? It does 
not make you feel that you must do both 
ways ?” 

“ Surely not.” Kezzie flushed and smiled. 

“ Dear child,” said the old lady, with an 
answering smile, “ it is little wonder things 
have ‘ tangled ’ while you were trying to 
decide upon everybody’s duty; it is always 
so. There is a promise that our way shall 
be made plain before us, but it is nowhere 


TPVO SIDES OF A QUESTION. 1 6 / 

promised that everybody’s way shall be 
made plain before us. ‘ Whatsoever he 
saith unto you, do it but when we hesi- 
tate and look around on others to ask, like 
the disciple of old, ‘ Lord, and what shall 
this man do ?’ we only receive the old an- 
swer : ‘ What is that to thee ? Follow thou 

me.’ After all, the only true Sabbath rest 
is a rest in the Lord. There is no rest 
outside in any form or observance, in any 
doing or leaving undone, in any duty even. 
Outward circumstances may change, but we 
can rest in him however things whirl and 
tangle around us. My dear, it is no pre- 
scribed duties and fixed rules that you 
want, but the living, loving personal Lord 
— not a commandment, but a Presence. Be 
sure that he will lead you day by day and 
step by step. Give yourself wholly to his 
guidance, and you have no more need to 
worry. He has promised that you shall 
not walk in darkness.” 


CHAPTER VIII. 


NEGLECTED CORNERS. 

EZZIE’S injured foot and other causes 



IV had combined to prolong her visit far 
beyond the time she had originally design- 
ed for it, yet even then it seemed brief to 
both Marion and herself. 

“ It’s a woeful world for letting lives grow 
together and tearing them apart again,” said 
Marion, playfully, but with the tears shining 
in her eyes. “ I shall miss you so ; and next 
spring I suppose I must lose Aunt Kendall, 
and Robert too. Did she tell you anything 
of their plans the other day ? He does not 
want a city church ; his heart is fixed upon 
a nook somewhere in the hill- country west 
of you, where there is a small parish and a 
large outlying missionary field beyond it. 
I think he has decided to go there, and 
his mother will go with him.” 

It seemed to Kezzie that “ a small parish 


168 


NEGLECTED CORNERS. 1 69 

and a large outlying missionary field” de- 
scribed the work to which she also was 
going. She looked forward eagerly, yet 
shrinkingly. She wanted to be at home 
again, but it seemed like leaving a quiet 
haven for a troubled sea to go out from her 
cousin's home and take up her own life once 
more. Still, if he whom even the winds and 
the waves obey went with her — The 
“ Peace, be still !” was whispered in her 
heart by that thought through all the home- 
ward journey. 

Sydney met her at the station, and his 
greeting was, for merry, careless Sydney, 
very tender. 

“ Not that you are of so very much con- 
sequence, Sis — I don't want to flatter you,” 
he said, by way of explaining his quick 
kisses — “ but we have really come to such 
a condition at our house that even small 
favors are thankfully received. Now that 
Celia has established her domestic refrig- 
erator, and Tom gone West for a few weeks 
to become a millionaire, the rooms look 
empty and I've been short of teasing-ma- 
terial.” 


I/O TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

Kezzie laughed : she knew he had missed 
her. She sighed, too, as his words recalled 
the diverse elements of which the house- 
hold was composed. 

“ I wish I could have been at home before 
Tom went away,” she said, wistfully. 

‘Tt wouldn’t have been of any use. You 
couldn’t have hindered his going — if you 
mean that you’d have cared to try,” an- 
swered Sydney, turning to look in her face 
as if not quite understanding what her wish 
implied. 

She herself did not fully know. It sprang 
from an undefined sense of some influence 
lost, some duty neglected. What could she 
have done ? 

I do not know,” she replied, to her own 
thought rather than to Sydney’s words. 

Did father seem willing to have him leave 
home ?” 

Sydney shrugged his shoulders : 

“ In the same way that the Dutchman’s 
wife was resigned to die : ‘ Mine friend, 
she kad to be.’ There’s a great deal of 
that sort of resignation in the world. I 
fancy father thought Tom’s going might 


NEGLECTED CORNERS, I/I 

be the least of two evils, and so, at the 
last, he did not oppose it.” 

“What two evils?” asked Kezzie, after 
a moment’s thoughtful pause. 

Sydney looked at her again : 

“You haven’t really been so obtuse con- 
cerning everything in the past? Or is it my 
own opinion, with notes and comments, that 
you want? You know Tom’s holding any 
place at the works has been a mere pretence 
this long time ; he has scarcely attended to 
anything there. But in the fall and this 
winter he has been around the stock ex- 
change a good deal, and there he fell in 
with • some fellows who had been visiting 
the mining-regions, and with others who 
were getting up stock companies. Al- 
together, he became wild over ‘ brilliant 
strikes,’ ‘ bonanzas,’ lucky speculations, and 
all that sort of thing. He tried to in- 
duce father to make some great changes 
in the plan and running of the’ mill — to 
enlarge the works, launch out in startling 
ventures, and do desperate deeds generally. 
I didn’t understand exactly what; I don’t 
think father did, and I’m positive Tom didn’t. 


172 TANGLES AND COENEES. 

Well, he didn’t succeed in that, of course, and 
then he declared himself disgusted with such 
humdrum ways of doing business, and that he 
had lost all interest in the works. It wasn’t 
an overwhelming loss, judging from the 
amount of time and labor he has bestowed 
upon the institution, but he grew more rest- 
less and unreliable than ever. Nothing but 
the do-it-up-before-dinner style of making a 
fortune would satisfy him; and so, when he 
determined to go out to the mines himself, 
father offered little objection.” 

The carriage turned in at the familiar 
gate and stopped before the large hand- 
some house. It looked pleasant enough 
to be a home, Kezzie thought, even with 
the winter sunshine lighting up its windows 
and frost lying white on every tree and 
shrub in the grounds. The children heard 
the sound of wheels and. rushed out to meet 
her, eager to see Kezzie, and still more ea- 
ger, it appeared a little later, to see what 
she had “brought home in her trunk.” 

Aunt Nene bestowed upon her face a 
keen, scrutinizing glance, and was apparent- 
ly satisfied. 



Kezzie’s Return 


Page 172 





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NEGLECTED CORNERS. 1/3 

“She has stopped eating herself up, at 
least, and found some more wholesome diet,” 
she murmured with a sagacious nod when 
Kezzie had gone up to her mother’s room. 

Darkened, as usual, and heavy with the 
odor of camphor and ether, that upper 
room made the girl realize more forcibly 
than anything else had done that she was 
really at home again, and that the old life, 
with all its peculiarities and burdens, was 
waiting to be taken up. With the old 
natural inclination to escape from it, she 
shrank from this atmosphere and all it 
suggested. And then, as her eye swept 
the department, so luxurious and yet so 
dreary, there came a new pitying thought 
of how it must seem to be always a pris- 
oner there, and with it a sudden strange 
remembrance of some words that might 
perhaps point as plainly to one’s mother 
as to a stranger : “ I was sick, and ye visit- 
ed me not.” 

“ Mother, I mean to be with you a great 
deal now that I am at home once more,” 
she said, with self-reproachful tears as she 
kissed the pale face. 


174 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

“ Oh, I presume it seems pleasant to you 
here, just coming in, but you’d very soon 
tire of it. Tm sure I do,” answered Mrs. 
Driscoll, with a sigh. “Are you sure you 
stopped long enough by the fire down stairs 
to take all the dampness of this winter air 
from your hair and clothing? Any haste in 
rushing up here might injure me seriously, 
and it really seemed to me that you brought 
a cold draught with you.” 

“We have to be very cautious and pru- 
dent — very,” remarked the nurse, with 
grave disapproval in her tone, looking as 
if Mrs. Driscoll were a delicate hothouse 
plant and Kezzie a troublesome child who 
might snap her from the stem at any mo- 
ment unless she were carefully watched. 
“ If you would sit over here, quite away 
from your ma, while you talk to her, it 
might be safer ; and don’t excite her at 
all.” 

Perhaps a cold draught had found its 
way to the apartment. Something effect- 
ually chilled Kezzie herself. With the dis- 
tance of the room between her mother and 
herself, she answered very quietly, and with 


NEGLECTED CORNERS. 1 75 

no temptation to grow enthusiastic or ex- 
citing, a few languid questions concerning 
her journey, her visit and Marion, whether 
the latter “ appeared as odd as ever ” — 
whatever that might mean — and what her 
house was like. Meanwhile, running be- 
tween the lines of this decorous conver- 
sation there came to Kezzie a queer vision 
of what would have occurred in this place 
if, instead of that little telegram announ- 
cing her safety after the accident, there 
had come a different one, such as was sent 
to the dead girl’s home. Would the mes- 
sage have been carefully warmed at the 
sitting-room fire to take the chill of death 
from it before it was brought up stairs? 
And would some one have read it aloud 
from a far corner of the room, trying to 
eliminate everything exciting from its con- 
tents ? 

The nurse coughed significantly once or 
twice, but failed to convey the hint she 
intended. 

“ Hadn’t you better lie down now, 
ma’am ?” she suggested. 

She was anxious to have her patient 


176 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

comfortably established on the sofa, and 
herself comfortably settled at a distant 
window with the new head-dress that she 
was desirous of completing for her own 
wear. She contrived to do considerable 
sewing and fancy-work at odd times and 
in leisure hours when her charge slept ; 
and if, when such work was intensely in- 
teresting, she occasionally made the sleep- 
ing-potion of the invalid a trifle stronger 
than usual, she consoled herself with the^ 
reflection that “it did her no harm, poor 
lady !” She found this morning visit an in- 
terruption. Indeed, it was a maxim of 
Nurse Jane’s, often repeated, that “sick 
folks wouldn’t be nigh so much, trouble 
if it wasn’t for their well relations.” 

Kezzie arose, upon grave second thought 
omitted a kiss of farewell, and departed. 
Out in the wide, light hall she drew a long 
free breath. It was at first a breath of re- 
lief, but it ended in a sigh; and as she 
reached the stairs she sat down on the 
upper step, in the fashion of her old girl- 
ish days, that she might be alone for a mo- 
ment and think. 


NEGLECTED CORNERS. 


177 


It was only for a moment. Sydney espied 
her there. 

“ Can’t you be sure that you are really 
home again until you have tried all the old 
corners?” he asked. ‘‘You are like the old 
woman who was so bewildered by her mar- 
ket-day adventures that she couldn’t be sure 
‘if I be I’ until she got back to her little 
dog at home.” 

Kezzie laughed and blushed; Sydney’s 
words had described her state of mind 
more nearly than he dreamed. She had 
found the characteristic familiar greeting 
that left her in no doubt of her own identity 
and the unchanged surroundings of her old 
life. 

When she went up to her own room to 
unpack her trunk, Lottie accompanied her, 
and, perched upon the foot of the bed, com- 
mented upon all the articles of dress and a 
variety of other matters : 

“Mamma said you would have to see 
about getting some new clothes for me 
when you came home. She said I needed 
some, and that there wasn’t any one else 
to attend to it.” 


12 


178 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

“I must try to attend to a good many 
things now,” said Kezzie, pleasantly. 

“Yes. You’re the eldest daughter now, 
ain’t you ? Celia said so. She said she did 
hope you’d find some power of persecution, 
or something that sounded like that.” 

“I presume I shall,” answered Kezzie, 
with a half-amused, half-sad smile. 

“Well!” Lottie thrust her small hands 
into her apron-pockets and propounded an 
important inquiry : “ Do eldest daughters 

always have to be like Celia?” 

“ Not quite ; I don’t think I can be.” 

“ Don’t, then. Are you glad Celia has 
gone away?” 

“Why, Lottie!” 

But Lottie’s serene black eyes did not 
waver, nor did she wait for the remon- 
strance to be concluded. 

“Are you glad Tom is gone ?” she 
continued. 

“Why, Lottie! What a question! No, 
I am not glad. Are you ?” 

“Oh, I don’t care about it ’specially,” 
answered the little maiden, coolly. “ I didn’t 
know but you did. Did you have a nice time 


NEGLECTED CORNERS. 1/9 

while you were gone, Kezzie? Some day 
ril be a young lady too, and travel about, 
only ril go farther than you did. Perhaps 
I’ll go to Europe. I don’t know yet whether 
I’d rather be a great heiress and wear dia- 
monds, or a beautiful orphan.” 

Kezzie paused in her unpacking and 
looked around : 

“*An orphan,’ Lottie? What are you 
talking of, little girl?” 

“ Of what I’d rather be when I grow up. 
It’s nice to be an heiress, and live in a pal- 
ace, and fling gold pieces at beggars, and 
say, ‘ Begone, minion I’ But then the beau- 
tiful orphan nearly always has the best time 
at last, and gets to be a great singer with 
everybody crowding to hear her ; and then 
she becomes a countess or a princess, and 
finds out she was a foundling. I know all 
about it.” 

“ I think you do,” said Kezzie, somewhat 
astonished. “Where did you learn so 
much ?” 

“ From books and papers. I guess it was 
nearly all papers, though, with pictures in 
them. Maggie read them to me one rainy 


1 8 a TANGLES AND CORNEES. 

day when Jane was away and Aunt Nene 
had to be with mamma, and so I had no- 
body to stay with but Maggie. I liked it, 
and she has lent me ever so many papers 
since.” 

“ I never saw such young ladies. ' I think 
they must live only in papers,” remarked 
Kezzie, after pondering a moment what 
would be best to say. “We must try and 
find some nice books and papers to read 
together — you and I.” 

“ W ell,” assented Lottie, doubtfully ; “ only 
I don’t want them to be about good little girls 
that go to nurse their sick aunts and never 
tell when their cousins pinch them and steal 
the cake, but take all the blame themselves. 
Brother Meredith gave me one like that, 
but I never saw any such little girls, and 
I don’t believe they’re any realer than Mag- 
gie’s young ladies, and not half so splendid. 
I guess there are such young ladies in 
Europe, or somewhere. Guy likes best 
the stories about boys that run away to 
sea.” 

“We will try to find something that we 
shall all like,” Kezzie said, wondering in her 


NEGLECTED CORNERS. l8l 

heart the while what that something could 
possibly be, and foreseeing some difficul- 
ties in her path. 

It 'was not strange that the children had 
read what they pleased, undirected and un- 
disturbed. . That they were in-doors and 
quiet over anything in reading form was 
considered cause for congratulation, and 
there had been no one to notice what in- 
terested them or to give the matter any 
attention. 

Kezzie herself had never thought of it 
until now. 

“You must help me, Lottie. We want to 
make this a real pleasant home for papa 
and the boys — and all of us,” she added, 
with a sudden impulse. “You must help me 
about a great many things. See what 
pretty aprons I have brought Lisa and Mag- 
gie. Don’t you want to run down to the 
kitchen with them ? I will come in a few 
minutes.” 

“I don’t believe papa will ever stay to 
hear what we read, if that is what you 
mean,” said Lottie, with wide-open eyes and 
no rash promises of assistance. Then she 


i 82 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


slipped from her seat on the bed, took the 
aprons and went away. 

Left alone, Kezzie closed the door, gazed 
again around the pleasant room, so familiar 
in all its details, and then, bowing her head 
upon her clasped hands, she sought her 
true “Welcome home!” in the Father’s 
blessing. Perhaps- — she did not know — her 
own was the only thanksgiving offered for 
her safe return. Yet her family were dear 
to her — dearer than ever now — and she 
knew they were glad to have her at home. 
She saw, too — and that was the most ten- 
der thought of all — how much they needed 
her, or, rather, how much need there was 
for a strong, brave,’ wise and loving Chris- 
tian sister and daughter such as she wished 
to be. In sharp contrast with that bright 
ideal was the consciousness of her weak- 
ness and how stumbling were her own 
forward steps. 

She looked back over the past. How 
could she have been so blind to many things 
which she now saw clearly? Was she in- 
deed the careless, gay girl who had occu- 
pied that room a few months before, and 


NEGLECTED CORNERS. 1 83 

who had dressed so gayly there on that re- 
menibered Sabbath morning ? It seemed a 
long time since then — “around so many 
corners !” Kezzie said, with a faint smile. 
Her thought reminded her of a small illu- 
minated motto she had brought home with 
her, and she found a place for it upon the 
wall where her own eyes could often rest 
upon it, but where it would not glaringly 
attract other gaze : 

Witfe t0 t\t toorlb's tnlr. 
l^im, n0t mm 

Then she followed Lottie down stairs. 

The morning’s visit to her mother’s room 
had suggested some new reflections and 
queries that caused her, when she met the 
family physician in the hall that afternoon^ 
to ask a question she had seldom thought 
of asking: 

“ How is my mother. Dr. Wolcott ? What 
do you think of her ?” 

“Why, about as usual. Miss Kezzie.” 
The old doctor spoke slowly, as if he too 
had grown so accustomed to the existing 


1 84 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

State of affairs that the inquiry somewhat 
surprised him. “I do not see much change; 
her condition is very nearly what it has been 
for a long time past. But you have been 
away, and that may be a reason why she 
does not appear quite the same to you. I 
do not think she is any worse. Were you 
alarmed ?” 

“No.” A swift, remorseful throb at Kez- 
zie’s heart awoke with the sudden con- 
sciousness that she had never known any 
alarm in that direction. “I did not think 
her worse, but perhaps I never before re- 
alized so clearly how dreary it must seem 
to be such a prisoner. I wondered whether 
anything could be done — ” She paused ; 
her thought was not so well defined that 
she could readily put it into words. 

The doctor shook his gray head : 

“Your mother will always be an invalid, 
Miss Kezzie.” 

“ I supposed so. I did not mean quite 
that, but whether anything — ” She broke 
off the vague sentence abruptly and 
looked up frankly into his face : “ Dr. 
Wolcott, is it necessary that she should 


NEGLECTED CORNERS. 1 85 

be shut Up so closely to the sole compan- 
ionship of the nurse, and so much away 
from all the family life? Nurse Jane thinks 
so, and keeps a careful watch over every- 
body, and every topic too, that enters the 
room. Of course I know my mother ought 
not to be troubled or worried ; but if she 
could bear to see us oftener, and to hear 
more conversation, and reading sometimes, 
it does seem as if her life would be more 
cheerful. I do not know that she could 
bear it or would care for it — I presume 
the nurse knows : she should know far 
better than I — only — 

Only you cannot help having your own 
thoughts about the matter?'" said the old 
doctor, completing her sentence. There 
was the slightest perceptible shrug of his 
shoulders and a twinkle in his keen eyes 
as he continued: “Nurse Jane is not the 
most exhilarating company in the world — 
that is a fact. But a doctor is not so con- 
sidered, either, yet perhaps both are ne- 
cessary evils. As for cheerful companion- 
ship and reading, however, you need fear 
no evil result from them. And if Mrs. 


1 86 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

Driscoll could be persuaded to go out as 
often as her strength would at all admit, 
that would be beneficial also. Anything that 
will interest her and draw her thoughts away 
from herself — a little wholesome excitement, 
even — is better than a constant brooding 
upon her own condition and feelings. , I 
have said that always to your father, and 
frequently to the nurse. Your suggestion 
is very good, Miss' Kezzie, but the chief 
difficulty lies in inducing your mother to 
make the necessary effort or to believe 
she can bear any of these things. It is 
impossible to compel a patient to be cheer- 
ful ; and you must remember that she is 
really an invalid and a sufferer, and that 
this has a serious effect upon energy and 
resolution.” 

“ I can try,” mused Kezzie, thoughtfully, 
as she went back through the hall. 

She spoke of it to her father that even- 
ing, half anxiously, half curiously. She 
had wished the doctor might agree with 
what she fancied was a new suggestion 
in her mother’s case, but since he had 
assented so fully, as to something well 


NEGLECTED CORNERS. 1 8 / 

understood long ago, she had an uneasy 
feeling of having been neglectful of the 
most common and natural duty. She won- 
dered what her father had known and thought 
on the subject. 

“ Dr. Wolcott told me to-day that he 
thought it would be better for mamma if 
she could go out oftener and have more 
company — more of ours, I mean — in her 
own room, and become interested in what 
is going on around her,” she said. 

“Yes, he has told me so,” Mr. Driscoll 
answered, arousing slowly from a brief 
reverie, in which he had dropped his paper 
and sat gazing into the fire. “ I have tried 
to persuade her to ride oftener, but, as she 
says, I am very likely to propose it just at 
the wrong time, because I am away so much 
that I cannot know her condition so well as 
the nurse does, or when she is strong enough 
for such exercise. Jane ought to under- 
stand and do the best that can be done 
— that is why she is here — and your mother 
thinks no one can care for her so well or 
make her so comfortable as Jane. I wish 
she could go out more and bear a little 


i88 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


more noise and talking — especially from 
the children,” he concluded, with a sigh. 

“And I haven’t left the matter wholly to 
Jane, either,” said Aunt Nene, decidedly. 
They were sitting in her room — the plain, 
old-fashioned room that Mr. Driscoll seem- 
ed of late to prefer to all the handsome ones 
in the house. “Child, did you never read 
of ostriches? It doesn’t follow that when 
they have buried their heads in the sand, 
so that they can see nothing, nobody else 
sees anything all that time.” 

“You think I am just getting my head 
out of the sand?” questioned Kezzie, try- 
ing to catch the application of the illustra- 
tion to herself 

Aunt Nene nodded: 

“Yes; and you will find that seeing and 
doing are different things, too.” 

She found it so, indeed, many times dur- 
ing the weeks that followed — so often that 
she learned to sympathize with St. Paul’s 
plaint: “To will is present with me, but 
how to perform that which is good, I find 
not.” She wondered how much Aunt Nene, 
usually so silent, had seen of these home 


NEGLECTED CORNERS. I«9 

needs that were just revealing themselves 
to her. 

“ Catching people and doing them good 
can be made very easy in books, but it sel- 
dom is in real life ; and Guy, Jimmie and 
Lottie, to say nothing of Nurse Jane, were 
so exceedingly human and so averse to be- 
ing managed ! 


CHAPTER IX. 


A LITTLE LEAVEN. 

“ YDNEY/* said Kezzie, soberly, one 
day, smoothing out a package of 
dress-goods that lay in her lap — some pur- 
chases she had been making for Lottie — 
“do you think anything can be going wrong 
at the Ontario Works ? I mean, whether 
the business is not so prosperous as it 
has been ?” 

“ Why ?” asked Sydney, dropping his 
book and answering only with a. ques- 
tion. 

“ Because father seems troubled when 
I ask for money. Mamma wanted me to 
get some things for Lottie, and he asked 
me to be economical and make it go as 
far as possible. I noticed some such 
things, too, before I went away, and you 
know you wrote me something of the sort 
once/' 


190 


A LITTLE LEAVEN. 


I9I 

“Yes, but I did not know; I do not 
now, though I have sometimes fancied 
they were not doing so well. Father nev- 
er says anything about it, and I have heard 
nothing ; only I have judged from little 
things that it might be so.” 

“I should think they must be doing a 
good business, running so constantly,” said 
Kezzie, with a trace of trouble in her 
tone. 

“Too constantly, running seven days in 
a week ; and that is pretty nearly what it 
amounts to now,” interposed Sydney, quick- 
ly. “This Sunday work is not good for 
either men or machinery^ It doesn’t pay, 
though that isn’t the ground I would put 
the question upon.” 

She looked up at him, wondering a little, 
as she often did wonder lately at some re- 
mark of Sydney’s. But she did not think 
to inquire, until she recalled the conversa- 
tion afterward, upon what ground he would 
place such a question. She wished then 
that she had asked him. 

“ However, Sis, we don’t really know but 
the works are in as flourishing a condition 


192 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

as ever, and there is no use in worrying 
about it. ‘Never cross a bridge till you 
come to it;”’ and he again took up his 
book, as if determined to practise his own 
philosophy. 

Kezzie, at the expense of considerable 
searching and care, had been tolerably suc- 
cessful in finding books that had sparkle 
^ and adventure enough to please the chil- 
dren, but which yet contained nothing objec- 
tionable. Much beyond that she could not 
hope to go at first, but she noticed that 
after two or three volumes together they 
grew less critical and more ready to accept 
upon trust whatever she proposed. Besides, 
the evening reading soon grew to be a reg- 
ular institution, and was eagerly looked for- 
ward to, the boys attending more prompt- 
ly to their lessons that they might be free 
to enjoy it. She felt that this was a great 
deal gained ; and, though it was sometimes 
rather hard for her — she was nearly always 
the reader, since the children did not like 
one another’s attempts so well — she was 
fully repaid by the knowledge that she was 
keeping them with her and giving direction 


A LITTLE LEAVEN. 


193 


to their thoughts and their pleasures. She 
could not doubt her success when Guy, who 
liked the “ run-away-to-sea ” stories best, 
was delighted with Masterman Ready. 

Aunt Nene, attracted by something she 
heard, appeared in the doorway, knitting in 
hand, one evening when the entertainment 
was at its height, Jimmie stretched on a sofa, 
Guy on the carpet and Lottie curled up in 
a great chair. 

“ Maybe I too would like to hear some 
reading,” she said. 

“You are welcome. Aunt Nene, but it is 
only a child’s story,” said Kezzie, half apolo- 
getically. 

She had made a mistake. 

“It isn’t any baby-stuff! We don’t want 
to hear that, either,” flashed Guy. “You 
know it’s just what you yourself like, Kez- 
zie.” 

“ Oh yes. I like it,” she answered, hasti- 
ly — truly, also, for she did not belong to 
that class of old- young people who have so 
lost all freshness that they can find nothing 
enjoyable in a book for children, however 
well written. 


13 


194 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

“And if I don’t like it, I can go away,” 
said Aunt Nene, quietly seating herself. 

But she did not go, and many an even- 
ing thereafter she joined the circle, until 
her presence also came to be expected. 

Another bond of union was discovered, 
or rather grew from one rainy afternoon 
when Kezzie was seated at the piano and 
Guy stood at a window looking out some- 
what drearily into the storm. Half uncon- 
sciously he began to whistle, and Kezzie, 
who had been slowly turning over her 
music, tossed it aside and played the same 
lively, simple air. 

Guy laughed as it ended. 

“ They sing that at school,” he said. 

“ It’s pretty. Don’t you know the words ?” 
Kezzie asked. 

Guy tried to sing a few lines, but could 
not wholly recall them. Then he heard 
Lottie in the hall and called to her: 

“ Do you remember how this goes, Lot- 
tie ? They sing it at school, you know.” 

Lottie knew the words, and they sang it 
through. 

“ But there is one I like better,” she said. 


A LITTLE LEAVEN. 


195 


beginning to hum another tune ; and again 
Kezzie caught it. 

“ Here is one that the boys used to sing 
at Cousin Marion’s,” she suggested next, 
striking up “ Only an Armor-Bearer.” 

Jimmie strayed into the room presently, 
and after a minute or two began to try the 
chorus with the others. It was no artistic 
music, and sensitive ears might have been 
shocked by the untrained young voices and 
their mistakes ; but it was wondrously 
sweet music to Kezzie. She proposed 
one or two other pieces — something with a 
martial ring, a life and brightness that she 
thought would catch their fancy — and turn- 
ed away from the piano as soon as she 
discovered that their interest was in the 
slightest degree flagging. 

She had found a clue that she did not 
mean to drop — a key that she hoped would 
yet unlock many doors. She did not wait 
for them to forget; she made no formal 
proposition that they should sing together ; 
but in a day or two, when they were again 
in the room, she opened the piano as if for 
her own amusement, and when her own 


196 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

voice rose in the familiar words, the others 
one after another joined it. So it happened 
that little by little — no one but Kezzie quite 
knew how — many of the sweetest Sabbath- 
school hymns were learned, and that there 
were many impromptu concerts in the pleas- 
ant back-parlor. These were an effective 
aid in the Sunday afternoons at home — the 
afternoons that she now gave unmisgivingly 
to the children. Sometimes Sydney lin- 
gered a little while on such occasions, and 
once, when all were singing, a slow step 
crossed the threshold and Mr. Driscoll en- 
tered. He was passing through the hall to 
go over to the works, when the sound of 
voices drew him to the door, and, after 
listening a moment, he crossed the room 
and threw himself upon the sofa. 

The children looked up a little doubtfully, 
but, as Kezzie did not seem to notice his 
presence or consider it any interruption, 
they followed her example, and soon forgot 
him. She did not forget, however ; and 
though he lay very quietly, his eyes shaded 
by his hand, making no comment and giv- 
ing no sign of attention, yet she thought he 


A LITTLE LEAVEN. 


197 


was not sleeping. That Sunday, at least, he 
did not go to the mill ; and when, after art 
hour or two, some one came over to in- 
quire for him, he answered, with unusual 
shortness and sharpness for Mr. Driscoll, 
that it was then “ too late to attend to any- 
thing of the kind,’' and that “a man must 
have some rest.” Notwithstanding the tone, 
Kezzie’s heart bounded, and there was a 
thanksgiving in her prayer that night. 

Her efforts at establishing a reading cir- 
cle had not been so successful in some 
other directions as they were with the 
children. She had persisted in visiting her 
mother’s room every day, despite Jane’s 
looks of severe disapproval, her ominous 
coughs and a remark, apropos of nothing, 
that “young folks don’t mean to be selfish, 
but they are ; they can’t be expected to 
have .the sympathizing feelings of older 
folks.” Kezzie meant to be very wise and 
cautious, content to make her entering- 
wedge a very slender one, and she waited 
to find something that could be introduced 
quite naturally, without any suspicion of 
“planning” about it. Then she sought the 


igS TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

sick-room one morning with the daily paper 
in her hand : 

“ Mamma, haven’t I heard you say that 
you and Mrs. General Kingsley were school- 
girls together?” It was a fact to which 
Mrs. Driscoll had often complacently allud- 
ed since her quondam school-mate had be- 
come a millionaire’s wife and a leader of 
fashion. “ Her daughter has just been 
married irt Paris. Such a queer ceremony, 
too !” pursued Kezzie, without waiting for 
an answer. “ Don’t you want to hear 
about it ?” and then she began to read. 

The dresses, the gifts, the whole lavish 
and absurd display, were detailed with all 
the minuteness and abundance of adjec- 
tives known to newspaper correspondents. 
But Mrs. Driscoll, who recalled “ the time 
when that little Jinny Peters hadn’t two 
good dresses in the world,” was interested 
in hearing what grandeur she had attained. 

Nurse Jane, who had heard of the fam- 
ily, and who was always curious about the 
doings of those whom she designated “real 
tony folks,” was interested also, and lis- 
tened eagerly without a word of interrup- 


A LITTLE LEAVEN. 


199 


tion. Neither did she interpose with cau- 
tion or warning when Mrs. Driscoll, arous- 
ed to unwonted animation, recounted some 
incidents of those by-gone school-days. 

But when, flushed with victory, Kezzie 
hoped to gain something more valuable 
another morning, and so carried to her 
mother an account of a lecture upon a 
subject that she thought might attract her, 
she failed utterly. Nurse Jane did not 
like lectures, and was not to be beguiled 
by such means out of an hour for which 
she had other plans. She coughed and 
fidgeted, brought a bottle of camphor and 
placed it suggestively near, and when the 
reader had reached the most interesting 
point, and the listener’s face was begin- 
ing to wear a faintly sympathetic glow, 
she interfered decidedly: 

“Excuse me for saying it, ma’am, but 
hadn’t you better stop and rest a while ? 
You mustn’t get too tired, you know. 
Mothers is so unselfish when anything 
pleases their children ; and the pain in 
your shoulder was so bad this morning! 
How is it now, ma’am?” 


200 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


“Not any better. Yes, I suppose it is 
safer for me to be quiet,” replied the in- 
valid, with a languid sigh as she was re- 
called to herself and her feelings. — “You 
mean well, Kezzie my dear, but young 
people will be thoughtless. You have no 
idea how weak I am ; I cannot bear such 
things. I must be careful, as Jane says. 
I should have been in my grave long 
ago if I hadn’t taken such extreme care 
of myself” 

Kezzie resisted a momentary desire to 
turn Jane out of the room and lock the 
door, and instead folded her paper and 
departed herself, outwardly submissive, but 
inwardly indignant. “ Jane was abomina- 
ble,” she said to herself Nevertheless, 
her mother had great confidence in the 
nurse, and thought no one else could care 
for her so well ; and she was valuable in 
some ways. She must be conciliated, not 
antagonized — that was evident — for her in- 
fluence over her charge was potent. It was 
also evident that any changes or progress 
in the direction Kezzie had hoped must be 
very unobtrusive and slow. 


A LITTLE LEAVEN. 


201 


Celia came over that afternoon bringing 
her little step-son with her. 

“ Mrs. Meredith and one of her unfortu- 
nate experiments,” Sydney announced at 
Kezzie’s door. 

“Sydney, you are too bad!” said Kez- 
zie, reprovingly. “ Celia is kind — in her 
way.” 

“ Exactly. I never intimated that she 
knew nothing of the ‘ milk of human kind- 
ness,’ but only, in her case, it is iced milk. 
Will you come down ? She has brought 
a letter from Tom.” 

The letter was ostensibly Celia’s errand, 
though Tom had not made it definite enough 
to be of any great importance or to make 
his family much wiser. He described the 
scenery and the mines with some enthusiasm, 
especially “the rush and push of everything,” 
and dilated upon the fact that there were 
“ no slow, old-fogy ways of doing business ” 
in that region. He had looked about a 
^ood deal, but had not found exactly the 
right place for himself yet — not just what 
he wanted. However, he advised his father 
to send on any money he could spare and 


202 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


to allow him to invest it there. He was as- 
sured of large returns on every side, and 
heard of fortunes made in a day. If he 
ever made his, they might be sure they 
would hear from him handsomely at home. 

Kezzie turned the sheet as if looking for 
something more satisfactory, and then fold- 
ed it with an unconscious sigh. 

“ I don’t know whether I had better take 
it up to mamma right away,” she said after 
a minute. ‘‘She may be sleeping. You 
don’t mind leaving it here until to-mor- 
row ?” 

Then — she scarcely knew how it hap- 
pened, only that her failure of the morn- 
ing had troubled her and it seemed as if 
it would be a relief to talk it over with 
somebody — she told Celia of Dr. Wolcott’s 
opinion and of her attempts. 

It was an unfortunate topic. 

“ That confirms rhy own view of the 
case,” said Celia. “ I have for a long time 
thought it probable that a great part of 
this constant illness and helplessness was 
due to imagination and inertia.” 

“I don’t think so,” said Kezzie, flushing 


A LITTLE LEAVEN, 


203 


quickly. “ Dr. Wolcott didn’t say anything 
of that kind.” 

“I do not see that it amounts to much 
less if he said her health would improve 
if she could be interested in something 
outside of self and bestow less thought 
upon her own feelings, and that the ex- 
citement she is always dreading would 
really do her good.” 

“ He didn’t say that ; he did not say it in 
any such way,” persisted Kezzie. 

“Well, I was not present at the inter- 
view ; I merely accepted your report of 
it,” replied Celia, coolly. “And really, Kez- 
zie, it is time you learned some self-control. 
If you allow yourself to fuss and fret in 
this nervous fashion over every remark 
that does not suit you, magnifying every 
trifle, you may become a hypochondriac 
yourself. You are old enough not to in- 
dulge in such humors.” 

Kezzie bit her lips. What had she said 
that could possibly be construed into a 
suggestion that her mother’s illness was 
merely of the imagination ? At least, she 
would say nothing more, or she might next 


204 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

be told that she had called her an im- 
becile : 

Celia calmly threaded a needle and pro- 
ceeded with the bit of work she had brought 
with her : 

“As for Jane’s interfering at all with your 
plans, I wonder that you tolerate it. I nev- 
er should allow such a thing from a ser- 
vant.” 

“ Celia, you know perfectly well how it 
is with Jane — that her position isn’t a com- 
mon one,” said Kezzie, again stung to re- 
monstrance. 

“And I also know perfectly well how it 
ought not be,” said Celia, serenely. “ Now 
that you are the eldest daughter at home — 
the young lady of the house, Kezzie — you 
really should try to introduce some system 
into the household affairs. I wish you could 
see the exquisite order in which everything is 
arranged at Uncle Ralph’s. Aunt Nene is 
good and well meaning, but she has no 
capacity — ” 

“ She has had capacity enough to do 
nearly everything that has been done for 
us all these years, and I do not see that 


A LITTLE LEAVEN. 


205 


it is deserting her now/’ interrupted, Kez- 
zie, indignantly. 

Celia’s delicate brows arched slightly, 
but she passed over the remark in the 
calm, superior way with which she ha- 
bitually treated any of Kezzie’s outbursts, 
and which always made her young sister 
feel herself at a disadvantage. Kezzie 
needed advice and admonition, and she 
was not to be deterred from giving either 
by any display of childish petulance. She 
seemed to have an impression — from whence 
derived it would be difficult to tell — that such 
order and welfare as the establishment had 
known while she was at home must have 
been due to her presence and precepts, 
and that Kezzie needed now all the over- 
sight and guidance she could give her. 

Nothing in the conversation disturbed 
Celia’s composure. She found herself 
quite comfortable in the pleasant room, 
and decided to stay the afternoon. One 
of the children could run over and ask 
Mr. Meredith to come to tea, she said. 
Meanwhile, her observant eyes noted, and 
her quiet voice commented upon, a variety 


206 tangles and corners. 

of things in a way that alternately vexed 
and discouraged Kezzie. 

She took up some of the books that 
had been chosen for the children’s even- 
ing reading, and, while she commended 
the undertaking, she criticised the selec- 
tions : 

“It is not amusement that they need, 
but instruction. Some useful histories and 
biographies would be far better than these.’^ 

“Lottie is just learning to play a little 
on the piano : I presume Mozart and Bee- 
thoven would be far better for her than 
•‘Days of Absence,’” mused Kezzie. But 
she kept the thought to herself, watching 
the while little Reginald Meredith, who 
twisted uneasily from one position to anoth- 
er, drawing upon himself the even-voiced, 
dispassionate reproof of his step-mother, 
now for this, now for that, until he really 
seemed to have no idea of what he might 
safely do with himself. 

After a time, when the children were at 
home, he slipped away to a distant corner, 
where Jimmie, curled up in luxurious free- 
dom, was mending a skate-strap. The lit- 


A LITTLE LEAVEN. 


207 


tie visitor, with his small thin hands clasped 
behind him, surveyed him curiously for a 
moment. 

“ Do you be brought up on strict-ly hy- 
gien-ic prin-ci-ples too ?’* he asked pro- 
nouncing the long words with slow, precise 
emphasis to assure himself that he had 
managed them correctly. 

Jimmie stared an instant in astonish- 
ment: 

‘‘No, sir! Fm brought up without any 
principles at all.” 

Celia did not hear the boys, but at Syd- 
ney's laugh she started and looked around. 
Sydney’s eyes, however, were fastened upon 
his book, and he did not explain what he 
had found in its pages to cause amusement. 
A smile rippled over Kezzie’s lips, but it 
faded swiftly. There was entirely too much 
truth in Jimmie’s assertion. 

Celia’s slender fingers kept evenly on 
with their work, but the afternoon wore 
away slowly to Kezzie, harassed and 
wounded in numberless ways, and not 
always knowing quite how or why. She 
wondered at it when at last the tea-hour 


2o8 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


was over and she stood for a moment in 
the doorway and watched the retreating 
forms of Mr. Meredith and his wife. It 
did seem strange that any woman — not a 
bad woman, and her own sister — could 
cause her such discomfort. 

“ What are you musing over, Sister Dol- 
ores, with a face like that ?” asked Sydney, 
coming up the steps and drawing his own 
face into a lengthened caricature of hers. 

“Human mosquitoes,” *she answered, 
shortly, “whose visits are chiefly notice- 
able because of the uncomfortable stings 
they leave.” 

“ Take a meal at your expense and pay 
for it in sting,” laughed Sydney. Then he 
added meaningly, “ Kezzie,' you are too 
bad ! The mosquitoes are kind, you know 
— in their way. They sing before they 
sting.” 

She turned abruptly away from him and . 
crossed the hall into the dim parlor, where, 
sitting down by the open piano, she leaned 
her head forward upon it, tired, saddened 
and with a sore throb of conscience too. 
She had meant the day to be full of help 


A LITTLE LEAVEN. 209 

and glad, unselfish service, and it seemed 
a failure every way. She had almost quar- 
reled with Celia, and what could Sydney 
think of her for condemning his way of 
speaking of their sister and then saying 
something even worse herself? Oh dear ! 
it was hard to do anything here. If her 
home were like Marlon’s — 

‘‘ Kezzle,” said a voice from back in the 
shadows, “play something that you were 
singing with the children the other day — 
Sunday, I think. What was it ? Something 
sweet and simple.” 

She had not noticed her father, in the 
twilight of the dusky room, but he was sit- 
ting there, and, dimly discerning her as she 
passed to the piano, fancied her object was 
music. He had not been sleeping, then, 
that day on the sofa, and he had heard 
and had remembered. Her heart swelled 
and her voice rose clear and glad: 

** I love to tell the story ; 

It did so much for me, 

And that is just the reason 
I tell it now to thee. 

I love to tell the story : 

’Twill be my theme in glory — 


14 


210 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


To tell the old, old story 
Of Jesus and his love.” 

No, this was’ not Marion’s home, but it 
was her own — her own work, to which God 
had called her, and he would neither leave 
nor forsake her though she stumbled and 
faltered often. It was strange and sweet 
to be singing such words to her father at 
his request, and her burdened heart grew 
comforted and hopeful again as it rose in 
the prayer: 


“ As thou hast died for me, 

So let my love to thee 
Pure, warm and changeless be, 
A living fire.” 


CHAPTER X 


OUTSIDE TANGLES. 


EZZIE DRISCOLL, are you busy 



to-day? If you are, it makes no 
difference ; for you must come over to 
the church with me and help decorate it 
for Easter,” Fannie Lancey had announced 
one bright Saturday morning. Easter nev- 
er seemed to mean much to Fannie except 
flowers in the church and new spring suits 
on the congregation, but she had a keen 
appreciation of the latter and fine taste and 
skill in arranging the former, and so she 
enjoyed the occasion, if she did not enter 
deeply into the meaning of its services. 

There were many skillful, busy hands at 
the church that day, and beautiful blossoms 
were woven into crosses, crowns and an- 
chors, Tropical plants and trailing vines 
were harmoniously blended, while inscrip- 
tions in evergreens and immortelles were 


211 


212 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


hung upon the walls. There was a great 
deal of laughter and chatting over the pret- 
ty work — innocent gayety, most of it, but 
occasionally something in tone or spirit 
in such contrast with the very texts the 
hands were framing that there suddenly 
occurred to Kezzie a new reason for the 
command given concerning the olden tem- 
ple, that it should be built in silence, with- 
out sound of axe or hammer or tool of 
iron.” 

“If the work was done elsewhere and 
only silently fitted into its place there, at 
least there could be no absurd associations 
or uncharitable reminiscences connected with 
it in the minds of the workmen,” she mused. 
“ Pomegranates and leaves would stand as 
symbols of spiritual things, and not as re- 
minders of some one’s silly speeches,” she 
added as she watched with a mingling of 
amusement and annoyance a simpering lit- 
tle maiden and her very youthful but very 
gallant attendant, who was trimming ever- 
green, untangling twine and making him- 
self generally officious, if not useful. 

Sydney looked in late in the afternoon. 


OUTSIDE TANGLES. 


213 


He did not seem inclined to come in even 
when merrily invited by the corps of labor- 
ers, but lingered near the door and praised 
the work rather absently. 

“I stopped for you, Kezzie. Are you 
ready to go?’' 

“Nearly.” She wondered an instant what 
freak had brought him, but she paused to 
complete the letters of a sentence and 
to mark the effect against the gray walls: 
“The Lord is risen.” 

She did not know what new meaning 
the words would have gained for her when 
she read them again on the morrow : 
“The Lord is risen.” Whatever else of 
hope and joy may die, he lives and reigns, 
and so no real harm can come to his 
own. 

“Were you in any particular hurry, Syd- 
ney? Did you want me for anything?” 
Kezzie asked, marveling a little when they 
were fairly out on the sidewalk and he hur- 
ried away at a rapid pace without speak- 
ing. “ I only stopped to help Sue with 
the lettering.” 

“Yes — no; it didn’t matter, I suppose. 


214 


TANGLES AND CORNERS, 


What does a girl like Sue Keith know 
about such things ?” he burst forth, im- 
patiently. “ I don’t believe she has an 
idea of Easter beyond having a new hat 
on her head and eating eggs for her break- 
fast; and very likely she fancies the latter 
is a religious observance. It reminds me 
of the three men who found themselves 
adrift in a boat, and when, in their trouble, 
they knew how neither to pray nor to sing, 
they decided to take up a collection.’’ 

Kezzie looked at him wonderingly, and 
he flushed and laughed in a quick, uneasy 
way. 

Oh, I haven’t anything special against 
Sue; and I’m not cross, either, only things^ 
seem so twisted that I don’t know what to 
make of them, and — The fact is, Kezzie, 

I have something to tell you, and I don’t 
know exactly how to do it. I must talk 
with somebody about it, though, and you’ll 
have to know it right away, anyhow.” 

“ Know what ?” interposed Kezzie, grow- 
ing pale. 

“Well, it’s really come at last. You 
won’t fuss and cry; now, will you ? You’re 


OUTSIDE TANGLES. 


215 


more sensible than most girls,” looking 
pleadingly in her face. “ But the Ontario 
Works have broken up — gone to smash.” 

He blurted it out in quick boy-fashion 
at last, after his exceedingly unsatisfac- 
tory efforts at approaching the subject 
gradually. 

The Ontario Works’ ?” repeated Kez- 
zie, bewildered. 

She had half forgotten her uneasiness of 
the early winter, when she first came home. 
Not that there had been any less reason for 
the vague surmises that had troubled her 
then. Her father had looked no less worn 
and preoccupied, and had seemed even more 
anxious to retrench and lessen expenses in 
many ways, but she had grown more accus- 
tomed to it. She knew nothing definite 
about his business, and, as household affairs 
had kept on in their usual routine, she had 
nearly ceased to puzzle over what she did 
not understand. She remembered now that 
her father had been very busy of late over 
books and papers, and that several gentle- 
men — strangers to her — had shared the oc- 
cupation with him ; but she had not known 


2i6 tangles and corners. 

what this signified, nor, indeed, that it sig- 
nified anything. 

“ ‘ Broken — up ’ !” She slowly repeated 
another of Sydney’s phrases, trying to 
make it convey some clear idea. “When? 
how ?” 

“ Failed, you know — stopped. Of course 
I can’t tell much about how or why,” an- 
swered Sydney, “ as I never have known 
anything about it, any way. Only I heard 
it on the street to-day.” 

“ Maybe it’s a mistake,” began Kezzie, 
eagerly ; but Sydney shook his head : 

“No, it’s the truth, for I asked father, 
and he said it was. He was just going 
out, and he didn’t tell me anything more, 
but it is known all over town by this 
time.” 

Sydney’s quick steps were leading the 
way, not homeward, but along quiet streets 
and down to the river-bank, where they 
could walk to and fro and talk unmolested. 
After all, the conversation could be little 
but conjecture. Mr. Driscoll had commit- 
ted the not uncommon error of never hav- 
ing taken his family into partnership with 


OUTSIDE TANGLES. 


217 


himself. In other days they had spent 
lavishly because they knew no limits be- 
yond which it was not prudent to go, and 
now they were involved in loss and em- 
barrassment of which they had no clear 
comprehension, either as to its cause or 
its extent. 

“ Only we are sure of one thing — the 
Ontario Works are ended so far as we 
are concerned,” said Sydney. “They are 
stopped for the present, and, whether they 
ever run again or not, they will pass into 
other hands. What goes besides, what the 
losses are or what father means to do, 
I don’t know ; but I expect it will bring 
great changes to us all. Not that I think 
I’ll so very much mind making my own 
way,” he added, quickly, and generously 
if ignorantly. “I’m more sorry for the 
others.” 

A vision of her mother despoiled of all 
luxuries, and of her father almost madden- 
ed by grief and despair, swept across Kez- 
zie’s fancy and made her heart suddenly 
sink as nothing else had done. 

“ I think we ought to go home, Sydney ; 


2i8 tangles and corners. 

they may need us/’ she said, pausing ab- 
ruptly in her walk. 

The new vague fear of finding a scene 
of sorrow and desolation haunted her all 
the way ; but when they reached the state- 
ly house, it looked fair and peaceful as ever 
in the soft spring sunset, nor did any un- 
usual commotion appear within. She was 
intensely relieved when she saw her father 
enter as usual, and heard him say, as he 
seated himself in Aunt Nene’s room, 

“ I am thankful to have it over and the 
whole matter settled. This certainty is far 
better than the wearing suspense and strug- 
gle of these months past. We have been 
for some time simply fighting against the 
inevitable, trying to do what was impossible, 
and I have felt that it was so. The McIn- 
tyres thought differently, though — that there 
was a chance — and they have insisted on 
working upon that ; but the heaviest of 
the burden — of responsibility if not finan- 
cially — has fallen upon me, and I am not 
sorry to have the hopeless battle ended.” 

Kezzie’s heart grew lighter at once. 

‘'Then this isn’t anything so very bad. 


OUTSIDE TANGLES. 


219 


after all, papa?” she ventured to question, 
sitting down for a moment on a low seat 
at his feet. 

He smiled faintly — a smile that only seem- 
ed to show how worn and lined his face had 
grown : 

“ ‘ Good ’ and ‘ bad ’ are relative terms, 
child. This may not be much worse for 
any of us — I do not know ; but I am far 
from saying that I am content with loss 
of property because I say that, since it has 
come, I would rather have the whole thing 
settled and over with.” 

He sighed as he looked down at the soft 
white hands and pretty dress. What did 
the girl know of hardships of any kind? 
What did any of his family know ? and 
what would they do without all those things 
to which they had been accustomed ? 

“Yet, after all, Nene,” he said, musingly, 
to his sister that evening, “I have some- 
times thought that this luxurious way of 
living might not be so good for my boys 
and girls as the simple, homely way in 
which you and I were raised, up there 
among the New Hampshire hills.” 


220 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


I never thought it was so good for 
them,” she answered, with quiet direct- 
ness; “nor that it was so good for you, 
either, Cyrus.” 

Mr. Driscoll did not ask for any explana- 
tion of the latter statement. Perhaps he 
knew more clearly than he would have 
cared to confess even to himself what the 
explanation would have been. But after 
a moment he added, with his thoughts still 
going backward, 

“We enjoyed life on that little rocky New 
England farm, a whole great family of us. 
I’ve often thought of it lately. You and I 
cared more for that little country school 
to which we had to walk a mile and a half 
through summer sun and winter snow than 
my children do for the best academy in 
which I can place them. I like the simple, 
old-fashioned ways myself. With all the 
fancy trappings there are about the house, 
this room of yours is, to my mind, the 
most comfortable and homelike one in it. 
But, of course, I don’t expect others to feel 
so. Fannie would say it was a fault of 
my early education and my natural lack of 


OUTSIDE TANGLES. 


221 


taste,’* he added, with a slight constrained 
laugh. 

If your wife had had simple tastes and 
less ambitious notions, it might have been 
better for you in your business and in many 
other ways,” was the quick reply that rose 
in Aunt Nene’s thought; but she pressed 
her lips together and did not speak it. His 
wife was his wife ; and, now that in these 
later years she was a hopeless invalid as 
well, she must be spoken of with all char- 
ity. It had been an extravagant household, 
as Aunt Nene had long known, but no 
right of protest — at least, no power of pro- 
test where it would have been of any avail 
— had been hers. Neither had she known 
anything as to his means beyond the fact 
that Cyrus Driscoll had the reputation of 
being a wealthy and successful business 
man. 

“ Poor Fannie ! I fear this trouble will 
seem rough to her ; but I must try in every 
possible way to keep her from feeling any 
change,” he said, sadly. 

Aunt Nene looked after him as he walked 
away. 


222 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


“ He has worked hard and spent half his 
life in procuring for others things that he 
did not care for himself, and that they 
would have been better without,’* she 
mused. 

Celia and Mr. Meredith came over that 
same evening. Mr. Meredith uttered a few 
stiff though well-meant platitudes upon the 
uses of adversity — “ fragments from his old 
lectures to the college boys,” Sydney slyly 
whispered — and offered with stately formal- 
ity, but real kindliness, any assistance in his 
power. Celia expressed the opinion that 
her father might have succeeded better if 
he had given more heed to Tom’s advice : 

“Tom urged changes, I remember, and 
enlarging the business ; and I really think 
father never quite appreciated his talents. 
Tom has some original ideas.” 

“The idea of curing a man too lame to 
walk by proposing that he should run is 
rather original,” remarked Sydney. 

“At least, if he had made an effort to 
withdraw some money from the works here, 
and had allowed Tom to invest it in mining 
stocks at the West, as he wished, he might 


OUTSIDE TANGLES. 


223 


have had something secured elsewhere 
when this business failed him,” pursued 
Celia. 

“ Or have had the satisfaction of know- 
ing that he had flung the dish after the 
spoon,” commented Sydney again. 

The Ontario Works had held an import- 
ant place among the city manufactories, 
and the involvement of the firm and the 
closing of the mills were at once, as Syd- 
ney had said, “ known all over town,” and 
inquiries, advice and calls of condolence 
were not amqng the least unpleasant of 
the immediate results. 

‘*Of course it is hard to give up things 
that people have always been accustomed 
to — I know that — though I have never had 
as much as you, Kezzie. Still, if one can’t 
keep a large, handsome house, I suppose 
it is possible to find a great deal of comfort 
in a smaller one. I’m sure many people 
do,” said Sue Keith, anxious to say some- 
thing consoling, yet finding her sentence 
an awkward one and hesitating over it a 
little. 

But her words suggested a new possibil- 


224 TANGLES AND COENERS. 

ity to Kezzie — a startling one. The thought 
of any necessity for leaving their home had 
not before occurred to her, and she sought 
Aunt Nene as soon as Sue had departed, 
and repeated her remark. 

“ Do you suppose we shall have to give 
up our place here. Aunt Nene — our 
home ?” she asked. 

“ Do you suppose a man can lose his 
property and keep it all, child ?” responded 
Aunt Nene, rather grimly. “Well, perhaps 
some people do succeed in doing something 
very like it, but an honest man like Cyrus 
Driscoll can’t. This great house, with its 
grounds, stables and all its belongings, is 
no small item.” 

“ Great house ”! Kezzie silently pondered 
a moment how they could do with one 
smaller, when every room had its use and 
seemed to her needful. 

“I wonder where we can go, then, and 
what we shall do ?” she said, slowly. 

“ I can’t tell certainly ; I do not know. 
But you remember there has been a branch 
establishment, a small mill, out of town 
somewhere — at Quinopeg, I believe — and 


OUTSIDE TANGLES. 


225 


I heard your father say a few days ago 
that if he could arrange, by giving up all 
other property, to keep that, he would do 
so. If he does, it’s likely we shall go there 
to live.” 

“In a little country village!” exclaimed 
Kezzie — not in dismay or with any great 
repugnance to the plan, but simply in 
astonishment. The “ change of circum- 
stances ” of which she had heard such fre- 
quent mention during the last week now 
began, for the first time, to take for her 
any definite form. 

Quinopeg it was to be : Sydney was soon 
able to tell her that. It was all settled ; he 
had talked with his father about it. Mr. 
Driscoll had grown somewhat more com- 
municative to his son in the last few days, 
and the new confidence was to the boy, so 
far at least, ample compensation for the 
cause that had wrought it. He became 
more thoughtful and manly, and, as his 
sharp wit proved, himself no inefficient aid 
in the carrying out of many plans. Kezzie, 
watching him, marveled, and it stimulated 
her also to greater courage and new en- 

15 


226 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

deavor. There was enough to do, and 
she found her hands full for the few weeks 
that they were to remain in the old home. 

After their destination was fairly deter- 
mined, there were many preparations to 
make for their removal — furniture, horses 
and equipage to be transferred to new 
owners, frequent journeys to and from 
Quinopeg by Mr. Driscoll and Sydney, 
the packing of countless articles and the 
dismissal of servants. The hired man and 
Lisa, knowing that they could be retained 
but a short time longer, found other situa- 
tions and departed at once ; so that Kezzie 
had speedy opportunity to learn how it 
would seem for Aunt Nene and herself to 
have no other assistant than strong, willing, 
but very obtuse, Maggie, who was going 
with them. It was questionable whether 
the elder lady did not actually enjoy this 
state of affairs: her cheerfulness and un- 
bounded energy certainly seemed to indi- 
cate it. It was like turning back to a page 
in her early life ; and she surprised her 
niece by the remark that it was “ good to 
get a kitchen into her own hands again. 


OUTSIDE TANGLES. 


227 


and put it into such comfortable order as 
no girl ever kept one in.” It was a fine 
apprenticeship for Kezzie, and she was a 
willing learner — partly from the charm of 
novelty, no doubt, but also from a better 
and more enduring reason. 

It is equal to several terms in a model 
cooking-school. Aunt Nene,” she said, laugh- 
ingly. “ For a diploma, I expect a rolling- 
pin with a blue ribbon attached.” 

It was a valuable drill in the line of prices, 
values and household expenses — a subject 
upon which her ignorance had been entire. 

“ I am just beginning to learn what I 
have cost — what the whole family have 
cost,” she said to Sydney one day. 

Considerably more than was desirable. 
I’m beginning to suspect,” he answered, 
thoughtfully. “ It’s very certain that we 
shall have to manage in some less expen- 
sive fashion hereafter.” 

It was not a prospect that seriously trou- 
bled either of them, or any of the younger 
members of the family. They were health- 
ful and hopeful ; and if the matter had its 
pathetic side, it had also its pleasant, and 


228 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


even comical, aspects. At the worst, it 
was only “comfortable poverty,” Aunt Ne- 
ne affirmed ; and the old house now and 
then ranof with a lauofhter that somewhat 
shocked Celia, who thought adversity, in 
whatever shape it came, should be treated 
with solemn deference. 

Aunt Nene and Kezzie planned many 
retrenchments, but the latter was sorely 
puzzled in regard to Nurse Jane. 

“ It will be dreadfully expensive in many 
ways to keep her with us, and she will not 
think of being — she will not try to be — any- 
thing else,” she said, confiding the perplex- 
ity to her father one day. “And yet — ” 

“We shall have to manage it some way, 
I suppose, if your mother needs her,” he 
answered, with a sigh. 

He did not see the way very clearly him- 
self. He did not know much about the 
domestic arrangements in detail. In the ag- 
gregate they had cost heavily, and many 
things seemed to be needed which he 
could ill afford. 

Kezzie secretly doubted whether Jane 
should be considered needful, but she did 


OUTSIDE TANGLES. 


229 


not doubt what her mother would think of 
it. She evidently did not dream of making 
such a change, and who would venture 
even to suggest it to her? Kezzie echoed 
her father’s sigh, and was silent. 

But Nurse Jane finally settled the ques- 
tion ^herself by refusing to go. 

“ I wouldn’t bury myself alive in a little 
country village for any one,” she declared, 
“and that in a cramped-up place with no 
privileges, and having to do your own 
waiting. You see, ma’am, I couldn’t think 
of it. Not as I’d object special to go with 
a lady as had been ordered to the country 
a bit by her physician, but when a family is 
so rejuced that they have to go to outland- 
ish places to live, why they may get small 
country help, to be sure, but they can’t ex- 
pect a purfessional. So, as I was saying, 
I couldn’t think of going, no ways, and so 
I’ve engaged with Mrs. Judge Tomlinson 
for a friend of hers — a nice, comfortable, 
genteel place, with a stroke of paralysis 
and no hopes, so a body can settle down 
to stay permanent. I never did like these 
quick, flighty fevers and transient dropsies 


230 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

that a body can’t rightly settle themselves 
to till they recover. I hope your afflictions 
won’t kill you, ma’am, poor dear! But I 
do say Mr. Driscoll ought to have thought 
of his wife before he went and failed. Men 
is that careless and heedless!” 

She had quite forgotten her usual cau- 
tious fears concerning excitement, and Mrs. 
Driscoll was not a littfe excited and indig- 
nant at what she considered Jane’s base 
ingratitude. Not that she had really been 
an invalid all these years for Jane’s accom- 
modation, though she was inclined to for- 
get that in reviewing the matter, but her 
sudden decision that the nurse was “ an 
unfeeling creature, never very valuable, and 
not at all the superior attendant she pre- 
tended to be,” was the most speedy and 
effective means that could have been de- 
vised for reconciling her to Jane’s depart- 
ure, and caused her to accept the minis- 
trations of others with less dissatisfaction 
than Kezzie had dared to hope. 

Among the events of those days was a 
letter from Tom — a letter so unlike Tom’s 
usual style as to be a remarkable event in 


OUTSIDE TANGLES. 


231 


itself. He had just heard of his father’s 
business troubles, and the news seemed to 
have startled him into realizing, for the first 
time in his life, that there was a necessity 
for his going actually and faithfully to 
work. 

“ I never knew how much father was 
worth, but I took it at the general estimate 
of people around us that he had a hand- 
some fortune, and I really couldn’t see 
why he should want me to save here and 
earn there when there was enough already 
to give us all a share to enjoy ourselves,” 
he wrote to Sydney. “ I don’t particularly 
enjoy work for its own sake, unless it 
would be in some great enterprise or 
grand strike, you know ; but this puts a 
different face on the matter. I wish I had 
known it long ago, instead of going grand- 
ly around like a rich man’s son, when I 
wasn’t anything of the kind. I’ve spent 
a good deal of time looking about here, 
chiefly to find a first-rate chance for an in- 
vestment, but that isn’t of any use for a 
fellow who has nothing to invest; so I 
shall drop it and try to find some sort of 


232 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

employment instead. That will not be diffi- 
cult, for I know of two or three situations 
now, any one of which I feel sure I can get. 
How is father bearing this ? Tell him not 
to worry. I think I shall soon be in a posi- 
tion to help him some.’’ 

The utterance of a sudden kindly im- 
pulse rather than of any reliable purpose 
the letter undoubtedly was, and full enough 
of faults in any case ; yet it marked the be- 
ginning of a certain change in Tom, and did 
more than anything else to lift his father’s 
gray head erect and to smooth some of the 
lines from his brow. 

So the days swept on, swiftly bringing 
the last one in the old house. Mrs. Dris- 
coll was staying with Celia while the house 
was in disorder, and would remain there 
until a place could be prepared for her at 
the new residence. Packing had been go- 
ing forward busily. The fine piano present- 
ed to Mr. Driscoll by his creditors as “a tes- 
timonial of their appreciation of his honor- 
able and generous course throughout,” and 
so of double value to Kezzie, had already 
been sent, with some other of the larger 


OUTSIDE TANGLES. 233 

articles of furniture, to Quinopeg, and the 
removal would be completed on the mor- 
row. 

Tired of the work and of the disordered 
rooms, when the early twilight brought her 
a little respite Kezzie slipped away from 
them and wandered out across the grounds. 
Very beautiful the place looked in the soft- 
ened light. The grass spread its dark-green 
carpet under her feet ; the trees rustled and 
whispered over her head. A faint gray mist, 
thin and fine as a veil, hung over the river, 
while all the western sky was in a rosy glow. 
There were lingering bird-calls, shrill and 
sweet, from hedges and trees, and a con- 
tented good- night twittering from care-free 
broods in their hidden nests among the 
boughs. The sadness of parting came 
over the girl as her eyes swept the lovely 
familiar landscape. After to-morrow stran- 
gers would claim it, yet the saddest of all, 
though she did not know it, was that the 
pang was no keener ; that the stately house 
standing so fair in the sunset had not been 
more truly a home; that so few sacred 
memories of true family life clung about 


234 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

it ; that so few tender associations hallow- 
ed it. Its heart was only beginning to 
beat in these last days. 

From the knoll where she was standing 
she could see the great mills lying in the 
shadow, closed and strangely silent and 
deserted. Some prophetic words concern- 
ing a “ land that should lie desolate until 
it had enjoyed its Sabbath ” — the Sabbath 
of which it had been robbed — haunted her 
memory as she looked. Was it for this 
that the gains of those desecrated days, 
and of all the days besides, had been 
swept away and the mighty iron arms and 
unresting wheels forced into stillness at last? 

Sydney, coming homeward by a short- 
ened path across the lawn, saw his sister 
and joined her, and the two stood together, 
while the light slowly paled and deeper shad- 
ows fell. It might have been the tender quiet 
of the hour — the thought that it was their 
last one there — that made it easier for the 
boy to speak. It was scarcely the face of 
merry, careless Sydney that turned at last 
from the fading landscape with the ques- 
tion, 


OUTSIDE TANGLES. 


235 


“ Why don’t you ever ask me to go with 
you, Kezzie?” 

“Where?” she queried, feeling yet fear- 
ing to believe the meaning in his tone. 

“Where you are going. Do you think 
I haven’t seen all these months that 
you were walking in a new way? And 
I’ve sometimes thought I’d like to try it 
too.” 

“Oh, Sydney! I didn’t know you cared 
— I didn’t know you even thought,” she 
exclaimed, her gladness thrilling in her 
voice. 

“That is little wonder.” Then, after a 
moment, he added musingly: “It’s queer 
how those words they sang after us as we 
rode away from camp-meeting that night 
last summer have followed me ever since 
and he softly hummed : 

Sure — ah, sure ! — shall the harvest be.’* 

“ Kezzie, do you know a way — the way to 
make it a good one?” 


CHAPTER XL 


A NEW NOME AND AN OLD FRIEND. 


EZZIE lifted her head from the car- 



pet she was tacking, and glanced out 
through the window for the twentieth time 
upon the wide old-fashioned garden where 
poppies and tiger-lilies nodded gayly to 
each other, and hollyhocks bloomed in 
sunny corners undismayed by a know- 
ledge of their own rusticity. 

“I like it,” she said. “And there is 
a vegetable-garden beyond. Aunt Nene 
thinks we may make something of that 
yet.” 

“I shall be satisfied for the present if 
we can make something of this room,” 
remarked Sydney, dryly. “ I can tack car- 
pet where it is straight-ahead work, but 
this twisting out around chimneys and into 
little window-nooks is exasperating. I have 


236 


A NEW HOME AND AN OLD FRIEND. 237 

no hungerings of genius after housework, 
Mistress Kezzie/’ 

Kezzie occasionally questioned her own 
talents and liking for such occupations in 
these days of attempting to do for her- 
self so much that had always been done 
for her. It seemed strange, and some- 
times hard, to have only strong, willing, 
but rather stupid, Maggie in the kitchen, 
and to remember that there was only her- 
self or Aunt Nene to answer when her 
mother’s bell rang. 

This last, however, was becoming a less 
frequent demand upon their time. Mrs. 
Driscoll complained that her room, though 
as pleasant and commodious as the house 
afforded, was so far inferior to the one to 
which she had been accustomed that she 
could not bear to stay shut up in it ; and 
so her large easy-chair was often drawn 
across the hall to the family sitting-room. 
Whatever she thought of the cause, she 
was stronger and brighter for the change. 
The children, passing in and out of the 
room, could fulfill many of her commis- 
sions ; and as she saw more of them, and 


238 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

mingled more with the family, she became 
insensibly interested in many of their plans 
and conversations, and so thought less of 
herself and made fewer exactions. She 
occasionally lamented, indeed, the blight 
that had fallen upon their fortunes, and 
the impossibility of giving her children the 
advantages she had always supposed they 
would enjoy ; but, on the whole, she mani- 
fested more cheerfulness than they had ex- 
pected. 

The arranging of rooms, the fitting — or 
misfitting, as Sydney persisted in styling it 
— of carpets, and the re-establishing of the 
whole domestic economy upon a new basis, 
required both patience and courage. But 
Aunt Nene, with her steady energy and 
determination, recalling again the half-for- 
gotten expedients and comfortable, home- 
ly thrift of her early life, was a tower of 
strength to the weaker ones. The old 
rambling house, though unpretending in 
architecture and plain in all its finishing, 
had yet a picturesque beauty of its own 
as it nestled among the great trees in the 
yard, with its quaint garden stretching be- 


A NEW HOME AND AN OLD FRIEND. 239 

yorid. It was large enough for their needs, 
too, and the boys, caring nothing for grand- 
eur and delighting in new surroundings, pro- 
nounced it “a nice place, with a great deal 
more fun than in town.” 

“ But it is summer now, when they can 
run about the fields or spend half their time 
in the woods ; I don’t know how it will be 
when winter comes and they must live in- 
doors,” said Kezzie, doubtfully. 

“ It will be time enough to worry over 
that when winter comes. Half the evils 
that trouble us are those that we see just 
ahead, and that we never catch up with,” 
said Aunt Nene, decidedly. “As for the 
children, if they can’t find amusement and 
enjoyment enough out here at any time of 
the year, it will be because their way of life 
so far has spoiled them. That would show 
more plainly than anything else that it was 
time for a change. I know I found- the win- 
ter pleasant enough when I was a girl, and 
my country home — it was real country, and 
not a straggling village — didn’t have the 
books and the games, nor half the com- 
forts, in it that this one has.” 


240 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

Mr. Driscoll had completed all the ar- 
rangements of his mill at Quinopeg, which 
had been originally a small branch of the 
large manufactory in the city, and placed 
it in running order before the removal of 
his family; so that, from the first day of 
their arrival, he had gone as regularly to 
his business as when in the old home. 
Only — and this was the saddest part of 
all the change to Kezzie — it was such an 
insignificant establishment, with its limited 
resources and few workmen, that it seem- 
ed unworthy of her father’s attention, and 
she coveted for him the old position of 
responsibility and influence that seemed to 
her his proper place among men. Perhaps 
her regrets were keener than his. He could 
scarcely be called an ambitious man for him- 
self — for the mere pride of place and power 
— and perhaps the experience of the years, 
the taste of the glittering apples, had caused 
him to value them less than once he had 
done. At least, if he came and went si- 
lently, it was with no discoverable gloom of 
manner beyond his usual gravity and ret- 
icence. Whatever he felt, he spoke little 


A NEW HOME AND AN OLD FRIEND. 24 1 

of his reverses, nor did he seem to be brood- 
ing deeply over them. There were times, 
indeed, when he manifested something that 
seemed almost relief, as of one who had 
slipped his shoulder from beneath a heavy 
burden. 

One of these times was on the first Sab- 
bath at Quinopeg. He lay on the lounge, 
walked out of doors with the boys, and 
seemed to enjoy in perfect leisure the fresh, 
bright morning. Kezzie watched him with 
a new hope growing in her heart. 

‘‘ Do you want to go to church, child ?’* 
asked Aunt Nene, catching sight of her as 
she passed through the room. “ There is 
only one here, so far as I can see, and I don’t 
know what it is like nor who preaches ; but 
you can find out, if you choose to go this 
morning. I shall stay at home with your 
mother and the children.” 

“ Simms says there is a regular service, 
and a good one, here every Sunday. He 
is likely to know, if any one does,” volun- 
teered Mr. Driscoll, with a faint smile as 
the mention of “ Old Simms ” recalled his 
staunch Sabbath-keeping. But, whatever 
16 


242 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

annoyance that peculiarity had sometimes 
caused the master of the Ontario Works, 
he secretly respected the old man, and 
considered him one of the most faithful 
and trustworthy about the place, and when 
he came to Quinopeg he had asked Simms 
to accompany him. 

“You can go if you wish, Kezzie ; I 
shall be at home too,” Mr. Driscoll added. 
“There is no need of looking after any- 
thing at the mill here. The business is 
not large enough to require it, and the 
place may just as well be entirely closed 
on Sunday.” 

But a mere business reason was not the 
only one, nor the chief one, for his decis- 
ion. He was, in truth, glad to rid himself 
of that which had been, however he refused 
to recognize it, a burden upon his con- 
science. The memory of early customs 
and teachings had never been quite crowded 
out of his later life ; and though he might not 
have acknowledged them even to himself 
as a cause for his present action, yet his 
announcement ended with a lonof-drawn 
sigh of relief, as if he had at last shaken 





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A NEW HOME AND AN OLD FRIEND. 243 

off something from which he was glad to 
be free. 

Kezzie had no need to question the cause 
of her gladness as she went with a singing 
heart up to her own little room that morn- 
ing. One of the “ tangles ” had suddenly 
and blessedly straightened. “ It was worth 
coming here for,” she whispered to herself ; 
and she said it again to Sydney as, a little 
later, they two walked down the straggling 
village street to the neat little church. She 
had felt a slight shrinking from this first 
service in a strange place, a homesick dread 
of meeting a congregation where every face 
was unknown ; but that was forgotten in 
the earnest talk by the way, and only faint- 
ly recalled when she felt the gaze of many 
eyes. The small church was well filled ; she 
saw that in one swift glance, though she did 
not care to look about her much, because 
of those somewhat curious yet not unkind- 
ly glances. 

A movement in the pulpit, a slight rustle 
sweeping through the pews as the congre- 
gation settled itself, and then a familiar 
voice fell upon Kezzie’s ear, and, lifting 


244 TA ANGLES AND CORNERS. 

her eyes, she saw a well-remembered face 
— that of Robert Kendall. She understood 
it all in a moment. This was the small 
parish with its large outlying missionary 
field which he had chosen. How strange 
that she had never known where it was or 
heard that he was here ! Mrs. Kendall also 
was here, and they should have friends at 
once. 

Wonderings and surmises bewildered her 
for a few moments during the opening 
hymn. With Mr. Kendall there, she could 
well believe Simms’s report of the church. 
Her father too would be sure to like him, 
and how many blessings might follow as 
links in this chain ! Then she recovered 
her wandering thoughts, and joined in the 
prayer with the last vestige of strangeness 
and homesickness banished. 

When the service ended, Mr. Kendall 
came directly to her. She had barely time 
for a word of explanation to Sydney before 
the minister’s outstretched hand and eager 
voice were greeting her : 

“ It is really you. Miss Kezzie ? What a 
delightful surprise ! I heard that a Mr. 


A NEW HOME AND AN OLD FRIEND. 245 

Driscoll was the new owner of the mill 
here, but, though the name was familiar, I 
did not think of connecting him with your 
family. Or is it your family ? You are 
not here merely as a visitor ?” 

“ No ; we expect to remain here. — My 
brother, Mr. Kendall.” 

‘‘ I cannot tell you how glad I am — how 
gratified my mother will be.” The gentle- 
man was shaking hands with Sydney, but 
his glance turned to Kezzie again : “ The 

character of a single family in a place like 
this is of no small importance. We great- 
ly need your help in our Sabbath-school 
and in our church-work. I am very glad 
you have chosen your home here.” 

So earnestly and confidently he spoke 
that Sydney listened in some surprise. He 
had thought only of what the place would 
be to them, and not at all of what they 
should be to the place. But there were 
two sides to such a relationship. Certain- 
ly this young minister so viewed it. 

Kezzie inquired for his mother. 

'*She is well. A sick woman near us 
prevented her coming this morning. Ex- 


246 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

cept for one brief visit to your cousin, she 
has been with me ever since I came here. 
She has never regretted our coming, but 
she will be glad of her new neighbors, I 
know.” 

“Are we near neighbors ?” questioned 
Kezzie, with a sudden happy thought of 
her quiet talks with the sweet-faced old 
lady when she was at Marion’s, and of 
how pleasant it would be to renew them. 

“ Our house is nearly half a mile from 
yours by the road. Have you discovered 
that our roads wind along in a very lei- 
surely fashion here? But there is a much 
shorter way through the little grove lying 
back of your garden ; it lessens the dis- 
tance nearly half.” 

The people were passing out slowly. 
Some of them lingered to speak with the 
pastor, and were presented to Kezzie and 
Sydney. 

“You spoke of meeting Marion’s cousin 
occasionally while you were at her house, 
but I did not know you were so well ac- 
quainted,” said Sydney as they walked 
homeward. 


A NEW HOME AND AN' OLD FRIEND. 247 

“ Oh, I saw him often. No, not. so very 
often, either.” Kezzie hesitated: she did 
not quite know why he did seem such an 
old acquaintance. “ But we were together 
on the cars when that accident occurred, 
you know. Then he is Marion’s cousin, 
and that makes him feel, meeting us out 
here among strangers, almost as if we 
were relatives.” 

“I liked him to-day, at any rate,” said 
Sydney, decidedly. “ I am glad he is 
here.” 

Kezzie’s gladness was too deep for words ; 
she herself did not attempt to analyze it. She 
only knew that this first Sunday at Quino- 
peg was proving sweet and bright with unex- 
pected blessings and that the future seemed 
full of hope. There was a momentary pang, 
as if she had, though unintentionally, been 
guilty of hypocrisy, as she remembered how 
eagerly Mr. Kendall had claimed them as 
helpers in his work. 

“ I suppose he thinks we are such a fam- 
ily as Marion’s. Oh dear! I wish we were,” 
she whispered to herself. “ But I could not 
explain, and perhaps we may be more like 


248 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

them some day. Who knows what good 
may be coming to us out of this new 
life ?” 

With all her pleasure, when they reached 
home it was Sydney who had most to tell 
of their morning. He described the ser- 
vice, the minister, the meeting and the 
conversation, and his own favorable opin- 
ion, with free, boyish heartiness. 

“ It is strange,” said Mrs. Driscoll, arous- 
ing at last into a languid interest, “if he 
is such a person as you describe, and as 
I should judge him to be from his connec- 
tion, that he can be content to bury him- 
self in a place like this.” 

“I don’t know anything about it, only 
he doesn’t look like a man who is endur- 
ing martyrdom,” said Sydney. 

Mrs. Driscoll was confirmed in her won- 
der when, with his mother, Mr. Kendall 
called the next evening. Kezzie was glad 
he had chosen that hour when her father 
was at home. She had wanted them to 
meet, and she watched the conversation 
with eager intentness, listening to the re- 
marks of each with a quick thought of how 


A NEW HOME AND AN OLD FRIEND. 249 

it would strike the other in her anxiety that 
they should be mutually pleased. But after 
a little while she smiled, well satisfied, and 
settled contentedly back in her chair to en- 
joy a quiet chat with Mrs. Kendall. 

Mr. Driscoll talked slowly and but little, 
as usual. He had never heard, because he 
had never asked, fully the particulars of that 
railroad accident ; but he had thought more 
than he had spoken concerning it, and he 
certainly remembered the kindness of which 
Kezzie had written, and felt strongly pre- 
disposed to like the one who bestowed it. 
With this bias, he did not find it difficult to 
be pleased with Robert Kendall, as he al- 
ways was pleased with straightforward hon- 
esty and earnestness in any calling. 

Mrs. Driscoll pronounced Mrs. Kendall 
“ unquestionably a lady.” 

“I imagine she does not care much for 
style or society, but many people of really 
fine position do not; and no one can doubt 
that she is really a lady. It only makes it 
more strange that she can be satisfied to 
live here. But then,” she added, with a 
sigh, I presume their circumstances are 


250 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


such that they can leave at any time if 
they choose ; and that makes a vast differ- 
ence in enabling one to endure a place.” 

“ Kezzie,” said Sydney, coming to her as 
she sat on the piazza two evenings later, 
“ what are you going to do about it ?” 

“About what ?” asked Kezzie, wonder- 
ihgly. 

“About trying to help things along here 
— the prayer-meeting and Sabbath-school, 
and all that? What Mr. Kendall said, I 
mean. He seemed to expect it as a mat- 
ter of course.” 

“ But I don’t know what we can do,” 
said Kezzie, hesitatingly. 

“I don’t think it is so much a question 
of what we can do as of whether we are 
going to try to do what we can,” answered 
Sydney, with characteristic directness. “ I 
haven’t fully made up my mind yet. But 
this is Wednesday night, you know.” 

“Well,” Kezzie said, slowly, after a mo- 
ment’s irresolute pause, “ he announced the 
prayer-meeting for this evening, didn’t he ? 
We might go to-night, Sydney.” 

“ Get your hat, then ; it’s time.” 


A NEW HOME AND AN OLD FRIEND. 2$ I 

So she had no further opportunity for 
deliberation until they we/e on their way. 

“ He said in the lecture- room, wherever 
that may be,” said Sydney, surveying the 
church windows for some sign of light 
within. “ Do you suppose they keep it 
down-cellar ?” 

Yet, when they had descended three or 
four steps from the vestibule, they found 
themselves in a small but well-ventilated 
and not unpleasant room, except that floor 
and seats were bare and that it was lighted 
only by three or four dim lamps, which 
burned in a flickering, feeble way, as if 
they had long ago grown discouraged in 
their fight against darkness. Coming in 
slowly and scattering over the room as if 
with the object of occupying as much of 
the ground as possible, some twenty or 
thirty persons had gathered by a few min- 
utes after the appointed time. 

The minister, scanning the faces of those 
present, gauged their musical ability at a 
glance, and with a sigh relinquished the 
hymn he had chosen as most appropriate 
to his subject for the evening, and fell back 


252 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

on one of the old stand-bys — there were 
only three or four — which he knew they 
could sing. The prayer that followed was 
simple and very earnest ; so, also, was the 
reading and explanation of a few verses 
from the Bible and the brief plain talk — 
it scarcely deserved the formal title of ad- 
dress — which followed. The pastor had 
chosen a topic which he thought would 
interest, familiar enough to come home to 
the daily lives of all, and he hoped it would 
draw forth some expression of opinions and 
experiences. 

“This matter touches all our lives, my 
friends. Will not some of you let us know 
what you have thought or learned or felt 
concerning it?” he asked, in conclusion, 
as he resumed his seat. 

There was an awkward pause, an un- 
responsive, chilling silence, and then peo- 
ple began to move uneasily in their seats 
and look at one another with a kind of 
desperate suggestion that somebody should 
do something. At last old Deacon Gregg 
shuffled his feet a little, coughed solemnly 
and began to speak. His words had no 


A NEW HOME AND AN OLD FRIEND. 253 

connection with the subject suggested, how- 
ever, or no more than by mere coincidence 
existed in his stereotyped prayer-meeting 
“ speech ” repeated at frequent intervals for 
twenty years. He told, in the same tone 
and words with which he had told it a hun- 
dred times, just how old he was when his 
feet were taken from “the mire and the 
clay,” and passed on by the usual stages 
to his accustomed exhortation to the “gid- 
dy and godless youth ” — who were not 
present. 

People, leaned back in their seats, look- 
ed around them, yawned a little behind fans 
and handkerchiefs, but, on the whole, felt 
comfortable. There was no need' for lis- 
tening closely. They had heard it often, 
and they were not particularly interested; 
but something was being done in a prayer- 
meeting-like style, and they were relieved 
from the feeling of uneasiness and the 
vague sense of responsibility which beset 
them during those forlorn intervals of si- 
lence. 

The good deacon’s voice had a monot- 
onous, weary sound, and he was tired, 


254 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

poar man ! All day he had been busy 
in field and barn. He was not any lon- 
ger young, and labor told upon him more 
than once it had done, but when evening 
came he conquered his longing for rest 
and came to the prayer-meeting from a 
sense of duty. Once there, he would far 
rather have listened to others ; but when 
no one spoke, the same rugged sense of 
duty brought him to his feet: some one 
must fill the breach. Perhaps the Master, 
knowing all this, may have bent a gracious 
ear even to the old story, worn threadbare 
to earthly hearing, of his tired servant. 

The deacon ended with a long sigh 
which might have expressed relief that his 
task was accomplished. A faint answering 
breath that might have been an echo of 
the same sentiment swept over the small 
audience, and then came another of those 
painful pauses. Mr. Kendall broke it by 
mentioning the severe illness of a poor 
man living up among the hills that were a 
remote boundary of the straggling parish. 
He spoke of some circumstances which 
made the case a peculiarly painful one, and 


A NEW HOME AND AN OLD FRIEND. 255 

asked that it should not be forgotten in 
their prayers. Would some one lead them 
in prayer ? 

Another ominous silence, and then an- 
other of the elder men arose, prayed for 
the walls of Zion, the far-off* islands of the 
sea, the lands that lie in heathen darkness, 
and at last, by a circuitous route through 
rulers and institutions of learning, reached 
the petition in hand, and briefly alluded to 
it in a blind, muffled, vague way, as if it 
would not be proper to do more than 
delicately hint at it. 

Again a pause which no one seemed dis- 
posed to fill ; then the minister announced 
another hymn, which lagged and halted 
through two verses, and then he closed 
the exercises with a short prayer that held 
a touch of sadness in its tone. The people 
arose with an air of satisfaction that a bur- 
densome but necessary task was accom- 
plished for one week more, and, chatting a 
little by the way, dispersed. 

“ Well, if that is a specimen of prayer- 
meeting, I can’t say that I enjoy it,” said 
Sydney as he and Kezzie wended their way 


256 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

along the dusky street. “ I call it woefully 
dull and dreary.” 

‘‘So do I,” said a voice behind them. 
“ I beg your pardon. I did not mean to be 
eavesdropping,” Mr. Kendall added as he 
joined them, “but I was hurrying to over- 
take you, and I heard you expressing an 
opinion that is certainly my own.” 

Sydney looked at him, or tried to do so 
in the dim light. 

“ Why, I thought you had to like it — that 

is, I supposed ministers always did like such 
things,” he said, bluntly, recovering from 
his momentary dumbness of surprise. “ I 
didn’t enjoy it : that’s the honest truth, 
though I shouldn’t have mentioned it to 
you if you had not happened to overhear 

it. But I thought perhaps it was because 
I was not good enough.” 

“ I am not good enough to enjoy it, 
either, and I do not believe I shall ever 
be,” Mr. Kendall answered, half smiling. 
“ Sometimes I doubt whether there is any 
goodness in even enduring it. I should 
not have imagined that you liked it if you 
had not told me that you did not. But now 


A NEW HOME AND AN OLD FRIEND. 25 / 

you have seen how it is,” turning to Kezzie, 
“ and you can better understand what I 
meant by saying that we need help. We 
have good people here. It is a proof of 
the steadfast Christian principle of some 
of them that they have given their pres- 
ence week after week to a service so unin- 
teresting, and so have kept it from dying 
out altogether.” 

“ Why shouldn’t it die if it is only a bur- 
den on all sides ?” interposed Sydney. 

“ Sydney !” remonstrated his sister, shock- 
ed at such a way of stating the case. 

“ It is a perfectly natural and fair ques- 
tion,” quickly answered Mr. Kendall. “ But 
even when we are so sick that we are no 
comfort to ourselves, and only a source of 
anxiety to others, we do not always think 
the best thing that can happen to us is to 
die — certainly not, if there is a prospect of 
our regaining vigorous health and filling a 
useful place in the world. Every church 
ought to have its weekly prayer-meeting, 
and it ought to be a source of strength, 
comfort and blessing. This one has in 
some way fallen into a rut, and into a very 


258 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

dull rut. I found it so when I came here 
a few months ago, and it is hard to lift it 
out. The condition is not to be wonder- 
ed at when we think of the hardworking, 
scattered people, with few books or papers, 
and little education or leisure to read, and 
a part of the time without a settled pastor. 
But all the more for this they need a live, 
earnest, spiritual prayer-meeting. It ought 
to be a cheerful, happy social hour.’^ 

“ But what can be done to make it so 
asked Kezzie, doubtfully. 

Her knowledge of prayer- meetings was 
very limited. Like Sydney, she “ supposed 
she ought to like them ” as she found them, 
and the idea of helping to make them any- 
thing, good or bad, had never occurred to 
her until Mr. Kendall suggested it. 

“We need — do not think. Miss Driscoll, 
that I am forgetting the one imperative need 
because I speak now only of the human side 
of the work — we need more people to take 
part in the exercises; not eloquent addresses 
or anything of chat sort, but brief, simple 
expressions of opinion or homely bits of 
experience — the homelier the better ; short 


A NEW HOME AND AN OLD FRIEND. 259 

prayers, only a few sentences of praise or 
petition that every one can join in ; and then 
singing that has some life and soul in it. I 
would like to have it a free, informal social 
meeting where each and all should feel priv- 
ileged to bring a question, a Bible verse, any 
thought of comfort or petition in which they 
wished others to unite with them, and where 
one and another would fill the pauses by 
starting some well-known hymn without 
waiting to have it formally announced by 
number. I would like to have it a place 
where no one would think it any more 
necessary to use stereotyped forms and 
phrases than in a gathering of friends in 
a parlor. We need to have our young 
people come. You noticed that they were 
not there ? They would come if they found 
the meeting interesting ; and if they came, 
they would help to make it more so.” They 
had reached Mr. Driscoll’s gate, and paused 
there a moment or two before separating. 
“That is my ideal,” continued Mr. Kendall. 
“ Probably we shall never fully realize it, 
but surely we ought to make some ap- 
proach to it. You will try to help me ?” 


26 o 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


“Yes; I will do what I can,’* Kezzie an- 
swered, slowly. 

But when she had said “ Good- night 
and passed up the walk, she wondered 
'what she had promised. 


CHAPTER XII. 


KEEPING A PROMISE. 

I T is Strange how persistently a Bible 
verse will sometimes haunt one’s 
thoughts. Words read over a hundred 
times with no peculiar emphasis of mean- 
ing will suddenly assume a new and won- 
derful individuality coming . like a dream 
“ through the multitude of business,” whis- 
pering themselves with seeming irrelevancy 
here and there, until at last they command 
hearing and heeding as a distinct and per- 
tinent message. 

“When thou hast vowed a vow unto 
God, defer not to pay it,” repeated a trou- 
bled voice in Kezzie’s heart as she was 
busied here and there with her daily oc- 
cupations. While she cared for her moth- 
er, made household plans with Aunt Nene 
or read with the boys, uneasy thoughts of 
that prayer-meeting and of Mr. Kendall’s 

261 


262 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


request were constantly recurring. What 
had she promised? She could not let her 
voice be heard in one of those horrible 
silences ; the mere thought frightened her. 
Besides, she had nothing to say. She might 
sing, perhaps ; of course she would be glad 
to do that, in a proper way, with somebody 
to lead the music, and other voices joining ; 
but then — 

“ Oh dear ! I do not see what I can do 
about it,” she said to herself. “ Fm sure I 
cannot talk or pray for other people. I am 
sorry about the dull meeting, but I do not 
see one thing I can do to help it.” 

“ Better is it that thou shouldst not vow 
than that thou shouldst vow and not pay,” 
asserted that unsatisfied voice. 

“I promised to do all I could,” mused 
Kezzie, considering the matter, “but I do 
not see what I can do. If I find any Way 
to help, I will do it.” 

Nevertheless, there were those five little 
words that would not quite be stilled : 

Defer not to pay it f and they forced her 
again and again to remember and ponder 
the subject she might else have put aside. 


KEEPING A PROMISE. 


263 


‘‘See here, boys — Guy and Jimmie: you’d 
better study up the Sunday-school lesson to- 
night,” suggested Sydney when Saturday 
evening came. “You won’t want to go 
to-morrow without knowing anything about 
it.” 

“ Humph !” ejaculated Jimmie, in sur- 
prise. 

“I haven’t said I was going yet,” re- 
marked Guy, with a twitch of belligerence 
at having anything taken for granted. “I 
don’t know as I’ll want to go.” 

“ I know you did not go regularly in 
town, but there were so many, and the 
classes were so large, that your staying 
away did not make so much difference — 
to the school, I mean. But in a little place 
like this we ought to go every Sunday and 
help it along. They will miss us if w'e stay 
away. I’ve found where the lesson is, and 
I can tell you.” 

If he had simply proposed their going, 
they probably would have rebelled, but 
speaking of himself also made it quite an- 
other matter. Sydney was so much older 
than they that an invitation to join any of 


264 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

his plans or pursuits added to their sense 
of importance and was secretly considered 
an honor. So in a little while, without say- 
ing anything more about it, the boys were 
busied over the books and papers which 
Sydney had laid upon the table. 

Kezzie’s eyes brightened as she saw it. 
How easily Sydney had arranged it all ! 
Yet Sydney had promised nothing : she 
remembered that. She was glad the next 
day when they all went together to the 
little school — ^glad of the smile of welcome 
it called to Mr. Kendall’s face, and of the 
evident pleasure with which they were 
greeted by the superintendent and his little 
band of teachers. They needed help — she 
could not fail to see that ; and so she could 
not refuse, though she accepted with mis- 
giving, the class of little girls which they 
placed in her charge, keeping Lottie with 
her as one of her pupils. It was new work 
to her, except the experience of that one 
Sabbath more than a year ago. She had 
felt far more confident of her own ability 
then than now. 

Yet it was not unpleasant work, and the 


KEEPING A PROMISE. 265 

hour passed swiftly: only in the closing 
chorus — “ Surely the Captain may depend 
on me ” — there was again a suggestion of 
those haunting words about vowing and 
paying. Sydney had not again asked 
what she meant to do. She had half fear- 
ed, half hoped he would, though she had 
no answer ready. But he was as silent as 
if he had lost all interest in the matter. 
Sometimes she wondered if he had, for- 
getting that she had been as silent as he. 

What new puzzles and duties came with 
every change in outward surroundings I 
She thought of it as she passed down 
the road on Monday evening with the little 
lunch-basket that some one always carried 
to the mill when her father’s failure to ap- 
pear at tea-time told that some business 
might detain him for two or three hours. 
The work and the purposes that now fill- 
ed hands and heart were so different from 
those which had a little while before occu- 
pied them. 

“Miss Kezzie!” A voice stopped her 
just before she reached the long, cool 
shadow that the mill threw across the road, 


266 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

and emerging- from it with hat pushed back 
from his heated face came Mr. Simms. “ I 
was just coming ’round to see some of your 
folks. Your father’s off to town. He 
found he had to go right away after he 
got back from dinner, and he hadn’t more 
than time to catch the train ; so he asked 
me to stop on my way home to-night and 
let you know, for fear you might worry. 
He’ll come back on the ten-o’clock.” 

“ Thank you !” Kezzie glanced at her 
un needed basket. She had no call to go 
into the mill now, but its shadow was 
pleasant, and she lingered a moment : 
“ Does it begin to seem homelike here, 
Mr. Simms? Do you like it?” 

“Well, my family and my work make it 
pretty much home for me anywheres, you 
see. Yes, I like it well enough.” He turn- 
ed and looked at the rough brick walls: “It 
ain’t so big a place as the one in town, or 
so grand to look at, but I’m doing the same 
kind of work for the same pay; and so long 
as a man has good work, and enough of it, 
that don’t make any difference, so far as I 
can see. Some ways I like this better than 


KEEPING A PROMISE. 26 / 

the -old Ontario Works. It runs honest 
and steady six days in the week, and stops 
still and rests on the seventh ; and that 
suits me.” 

A sudden thought flashed its brightness 
into Kezzie’s face. 

“ Mr. Simms,” she said, quickly, “have 
you attended any of the prayer-meetings 
here — the Wednesday-evening meetings?” 

“Not yet. Fve been thinking to drop in 
there, but it’s only been three weeks, you 
know, and there’s been fixing up ’round 
home to do after the work here.” 

“ I wish you would go,” said Kezzie, 
eagerly. “And if you could help them a 
little ! They need help. Mr. Kendall does, 
and I’m sure he would be glad to see you. 
There are so few to take any part in the 
exercises or to help to make the meeting 
what it should be. Of course I don’t mean 
any long talk, or anything grand or new ; 
only I was thinking if you could tell them 
some of the things you think out for your- 
self sometimes. And it is only a small 
meeting, you know, and not like a large 
gathering of critical people.” 


268 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


Kezzie’s sentences were becoming some- 
what lame and incoherent, between her ea- 
gerness to have Mr. Simms go to the prayer- 
meeting and her desire to explain, without 
really saying it, that he need not fear to take 
part in its exercises because of any lack of 
eloquence or of learning. 

But the old man understood it better than 
she. 

“ I know. Miss Kezzie — I know,” he said, 
with simple dignity. “ It isn’t a question 
of whether a man’s got any learning to 
show in such a place, but whether he’s got 
anything to say for the Lord and thinks the 
Lord wants him to say it. I’m getting to be 
an old man now, you see, and pretty well 
along to that point where opinions, except 
One’s, don’t matter so much to me. Yes, 
I’ll try to be there. Miss Kezzie.” 

Some thought of an old sentence con- 
cerning “ words which man’s wisdom teach- 
eth and words which the Holy Ghost teach- 
eth” lingered in Kezzie’s mind as she walk- 
ed slowly homeward. She was beginning to 
think that the educated were a much larger 
class than she had supposed when she left 


KEEPING A PROMISE. 


269 

Madame Mull’s seminary with a certain dain- 
ty roll tied with an immaculate blue ribbon. 
There were times when even grammar seem- 
ed a very uncertain and pitiful test of educa- 
tion. 

“I believe I will go to the prayer-meeting 
to-night,” said Aunt Nene, quietly — as quiet- 
ly as if it had been the most natural an- 
nouncement in the world — as the family 
arose from the table on Wednesday even- 
ing. ‘‘Your mother has had a pretty com- 
fortable day, and your father will be home, 
and Maggie. I don’t see anything to hin- 
der.” 

Neither did Kezzie, but she was certainly 
surprised. Aunt Nene had not gone even 
to church very regularly in town, and scarce- 
ly ever to an evening-meeting of any kind. 
Kezzie had never thought sto inquire why 
or to wonder whether her remaining at home 
was altogether a matter of choice that had 
been taken for granted. To be sure, the 
family had been large, there were many 
things to be looked after and Mr. Driscoll 
was seldom at home for a whole evening 
then. Besides, Kezzie reflected, she and 


2/0 TANGLES AND COENERS. 

Sydney had not gone often, either, and 
Aunt Nene could have had no company 
except Celia, who had always so many 
engagements. It occurred to the girl for 
the first time that Aunt Nene might have 
cared to go if she had had an opportunity, 
and also, with a sudden twinge of conscience, 
that notwithstanding her own promise to 
do what she could for the prayer- meeting, 
and all her studying about it, she had not 
even thought of asking Aunt Nene to ac- 
company her. 

The room contained about the same num- 
ber of occupants as on the last Wednes- 
day evening, and the lamps burned no 
more brightly ; yet it seemed a different 
place to Kezzie Driscoll that night. As 
she looked at Mr. Simms’s rugged, toil- 
browned face 3 ^ he sat in a shadowy cor- 
ner she could see how intently he was lis- 
tening to the few plain, earnest words that 
explained the Scripture- reading — “ Then 
shall we know, if we follow on to know 
the Lord” — the strengthening of faith and 
love that comes only through simple obedi- 
ence. He could well understand that, she 


KEEPING A PROMISE. 


271 


knew ; and she was not surprised to see 
him arise almost eagerly. 

“ Now that’s what I call the blessed com- 
mon sense of religion— if it isn’t no harm 
to say it,” he said, heartily. 

Heads turned curiously toward him from 
various directions, but he did not notice 
them. He did not think of explaining 
that he was a stranger or of apologizing 
for uttering a few words in their meeting, 
or, indeed, of calling himself to their at- 
tention at all ; he thought only of the truth 
he so enjoyed. 

“It’s because it comes to us so, day by 
day, step by step, that it fits us. How else 
should we know than by following on ? 
We can’t know a book by stopping at 
the first page ; we can’t know a house if 
we only stand at the door; and we can’t 
know the Lord and all he gives us except 
by following on. A good many of us make 
ourselves very miserable, to start with, be- 
cause we can’t understand everything. We 
want to understand the prophecies and the 
promises and the Revelation, and we wish 
we had more faith and more zeal. That’s 


2/2 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

all well enough, but there’s just one thing 
for us to do — follow on. Our knowing the 
Lord and all his grace isn’t promised no 
other way. And them that do follow — 
every one of ’em — can testify, like Joshua 
after he’d followed for forty years and more 
— through the sea, through the wilderness, 
by the wells and the palm trees, and into the 
battle — ‘Ye know in all your hearts and in 
all your souls that not one thing hath failed 
of all the good things that the Lord your 
God spake concerning you : all are come to 
pass, and not one thing hath failed thereof.’ ” 
Some words from a hymn came to 
Kezzie’s mind while he was speaking — a 
Sabbath-school hymn. With that remem- 
brance came the thought that doubtless 
most of those present could sing it. She 
did not give herself time to fear or to 
falter, but began to sing ; and after a mo- 
ment’s pause other voices joined hers : 


“ Who’ll be the next to follow Jesus ? 

Who’ll be the next his cross to bear?” 

Very quickly and unexpectedly came the 
answer as the words died away. 


KEEPING A PROMISE. 


273 


“ I will,” said Sydney, quietly. “ I have 
been thinking I would like to know these 
things, but I did not clearly understand 
about the following'' 

Mrs. Kendall’s sweet voice, a little trem- 
ulous, quoted softly but distinctly : 

“ ‘ Being confident of this very thing, that 
he which hath begun a good work in you 
will perform it unto the day of Jesus 
Christ.’ 

** ‘ My sheep hear my voice, and I know 
them and they follow me.’ 

‘‘‘ And I give unto them eternal life, and 
they shall never perish; neither shall any 
pluck them out of my hand.’” 

“ I’ve enjoyed this meeting — I really 
have,” said old Deacon Gregg, starting 
to his feet and looking around as if it 
must appear wonderful that a prayer- 
meeting could be enjoyable to any one. 
“ I’m glad I’m here.” 

‘Then, having spoken quite out of his 
usual routine, he could not think of another 
sentence, and paused abruptly, a trifle ner- 
vous and uncomfortable with a sense of 
having left something unfinished. But the 
18 


2/4 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

sincere pleasure in his voice had been a 
thanksgiving that did good to others. 

Sydney and Kezzie, with Aunt Nene, 
paused to speak with Mr. Simms when the 
service ended, and Mr. Kendall joined the 
group. 

“ I will not thank you,” he said, “ since 
this meeting and all its interests are yours 
as well as mine. The same Master is yours 
also, and I know well that no service for 
him is ever unrewarded.” 

Aunt Nene made no comment on the 
evening or any of its incidents then or 
afterward, but from that time, as the weeks 
went on, household duties and cares were 
quietly arranged with some reference to 
that mid-week meeting, and she was often 
there. 

There were new and varied responsibili- 
ties and interests in many directions, though 
Celia, who came to visit them after they 
were comfortably established, seemed to 
fear that the stream of family life would 
stagnate : 

It is so easy to allow one’s mind and 
thoughts and whole manner of life to grow 


KEEPING A PROMISE. 


275 


poor and narrow in a dull little place like 
this, absolutely shut out from society. — I 
do not mean the lack of giddy, frivolous 
girl-friends, Kezzie, but of really good and 
intelligent society. Of course you are 
entirely deprived of that.” 

“ Mr. Kendall and his mother,” suggest- 
ed Kezzie. 

“Very well, so far as it goes,” admitted 
Celia, graciously ; “ but, however eloquent 
and excellent his sermons may be, one 
scarcely thinks of one’s clergyman as socie- 
ty, you know.” 

Remembering the conversation she and 
Mr. Kendall had held over the garden-gate 
that morning, Kezzie secretly doubted this 
statement; but she kept her own counsel 
and said nothing. 

“ That is really one of the worst phases 
of all this sad reverse of fortune,” pursued 
Celia, with a sigh. “ I cannot but wish — 
though regrets are useless now — that father 
had listened a little more to Tom. Uncle 
Ralph has really very extraordinary busi- 
ness talents, and it does seem probable, 
as he is our own mother’s brother, that 


2/6 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

Tom should in some measure possess the 
same qualities.” 

“ Oh, there is no question that Tom’s 
business talents were extraordinary,” be- 
gan Sydney ; but Kezzie’s glance, with his 
own swift compunction as he remembered 
Tom’s last letter, silenced him. 

“ I scarcely know how to leave home just 
now, but I feel that I must come as often 
as possible and keep you in some connec- 
tion with the great outer world of work and 
thought. However, as I was about to re- 
mark, Kezzie, you really- must find a good 
deal of time to write, study and read, and 
so prevent your faculties from growing 
sluggish.” 

Celia’s delicate muslins, dainty as of old, 
kept Kezzie in “ some connection with the 
world of work and thought ” in the kitchen, 
and, as Maggie disconsolately explained, it 
“ made things lively on washing- and iron- 
ing-days.” 

To do Celia justice, she never thought of 
that. She was really concerned, in her way, 
about what she considered the higher inter- 
ests of the family, and she proposed, and 


KEEPING A PROMISE. 277 

even urged, that one of the boys should go 
home with her : 

“ I can take the younger children one at 
a time for six months or a year, and so, in 
turn, give them some of the advantages 
they must otherwise miss.” 

“You won’t see me going,” muttered 
Guy, who overheard the remark from an 
open window and sped away to bear to 
Jimmie the tidings of the direful plot 
against their peace. 

Kezzie was troubled. It had seemed of 
late as if, instead of each going separate 
ways with diverse purposes, the household 
was settling into a family life with a deeper 
community of plans and interests than it 
had ever known. With the evening read- 
ings, their plans for the garden, their grow- 
ing liking for Mr. Kendall and their attend- 
ance at the Sunday-school, she hoped the 
boys were forming more regular and health- 
ful tastes and habits, and she did not want 
one of them to go away. She was not 
sure that it would be better for them in 
town with Celia ; she was sure that either 
of them would bitterly oppose the project. 


278 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

And yet perhaps her feelings misled her, 
and it would be, as Celia said, “ very short- 
sighted and selfish to deprive them of such 
superior advantages.” 

But Mr. Driscoll ended the difficulty by 
taking the matter into his own hands. 
He decided promptly and finally when the 
question was submitted to him : 

“ No, my dear ; it is very kind of you, 
but the boys are better where they are. 
A boy can learn a good deal in a plain 
little country school-house if he chooses to 
try : I know that well. And roughing it 
a little will not hurt them. If, when they 
are older, they need any real advantages 
that can only be secured elsewhere, it will 
be time enough to think of sending them 
away ; but for the present they are better 
where they are. There is a good deal 
that goes under the name of ‘superior 
advantages ’ that is merely a plan for 
bringing up children with a taste for 
spending more money than they are ever 
likely to have. I have seen enough of 
that. Thank you for your kind intentions, 
daughter, but I am really better satisfied 


KEEPING A PROMISE. 2/9 

about the boys now than I have been for 
some time before.” 

Kezzie did not quite know what the last 
sentence implied, but it was accompanied 
with a glance toward herself that made 
her heart thrill with joy. The tone was 
one that even Celia did not attempt to 
combat, though she remarked to her 
sister afterward that she “ wondered at 
father.” 


CHAPTER XIII. 

A LONG, BRIGHT DAY. 

“ T THINK,” said Aunt Nene from over 

X the coffee-urn at the early breakfast 
one morning, “that I shall go to town to- 
day.” 

She did not address any one in particu- 
lar; she looked at no one. 

Kezzie laughed : 

“ Has it really come to that at last. Aunt 
Nene? A calico dress that nobody can 
select but yourself? A ribbon that no- 
body else can match?” 

Aunt Nene’s wants were notably few, 
and from the day they left the city she 
had never returned to it. The others had 
traveled to and fro on various missions, 
but all her business had been transacted 
by proxy. She smiled — a rather sober 
smile : 


280 


A LONG, BRIGHT DAY. 


281 


“ No. I don’t want any dress. There’s 
a little shopping, though, and some things. 
I think I’d better go myself to-day. If I 
could get off on the early train, I’d like 
it.” She glanced at the clock. 

“ Oh, you can do that, auntie. It is only 
six o’clock now — an hour and a half until 
train-time — and you need not stop for 
anything. Maggie and I can do nicely.” 

Yet she wondered a little that Aunt Nene 
so readily adopted that view of the case, and 
that she seemed content to trust in other 
hands even the light buns that she usual- 
ly thought no one but herself could make. 
Had she forgotten that it was baking-morn- 
ing? 

It was a perfect day. The sky was of a 
cloudless blue, the air crisp, cool and bra- 
cing, as if it brought the flavor of the dis- 
tant sea, while a flood of sunlight showed 
orchard, hillside and grove ablaze with col- 
or, in full autumn dress of russet, scarlet 
and gold. 

Kezzie drank in its beauty rapturously as 
she stood for a moment on the long piazza 
watching Aunt Nene out of sight. The sun- 


282 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


shine, streaming through the trees to the 
smooth old floor, threw a lovely carpet of 
light and shadow at her feet, a shifting, 
changing pattern, as if invisible fingers were 
still busy with its weaving. Through the 
air came the shrill call of the quail and the 
tap of the woodpecker’s hammer. The world 
seemed full of brave, glad life that made the 
girlish pulses quicken in keen sympathy, and 
a snatch of song sprang to her lips as she 
again entered the house. 

When she had first learned of her father’s 
embarrassments and losses — or, rather, after 
she had had a little time to consider the sub- 
ject and imagine (as she did not understand) 
what changes and needs it might evolve — 
some vague purpose of seeking a situation 
as teacher, clerk or governess had flitted 
through Kezzie’s brain ; but when finally 
she gave expression to it her father had 
answered : 

“No, my dear! Our circumstances are 
not such as to render anything of that kind 
necessary, and you will now more than ever 
before be needed in your own home.” 

She smiled that day as she remembered 


A LONG, BRIGHT DAY. 283 

it. Her hands were not empty, surely. It 
was a holiday with the boys, and they were 
out gathering the apples in the small orchard 
adjoining the place. 

Guy called to her from over the fence : 

“ Come out here a little while, can’t you. 
Sister Kezzie ?” 

They were sorting the apples, heaping 
them under the trees or placing them in 
barrels for the cellar. 

'‘And see here, Kezzie,” said Jimmie, 
pausing before a well-filled wheelbarrow: 
“don’t you think we might sell these and 
some of those red ones over there ? We’ll 
never want so many in one winter, and fa- 
ther said if there were more than you and 
Aunt Nene thought we should want for 
ourselves, Guy and I might sell them and 
have the money. You don’t believe we 
shall want all these, do you, Kezzie ?” he 
urged, eagerly. “And Guy and I want to 
get money for some new skates before 
Thanksgiving. The boys at school say 
there’s splendid skating on the creek in 
winter, and it often freezes up about the 
last of November. I wish Aunt Nene 


284 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

hadn’t gone away to-day. What did she 
go for, any way ?” 

Kezzie could not tell. Her own forgot- 
ten wonder returned for a moment. It did 
seem odd to have Aunt Nene away for a 
whole day, and for no particular reason. 

“ I do not know exactly. She wanted to 
do some shopping, I believe. You may sell 
that one load of apples at least, boys, and 
to-morrow, if auntie thinks we can spare 
more — ” 

Hello, Mr. Kendall!” interrupted Jim- 
mie, in unceremonious greeting to one who 
just then appeared at the fence. “ Come 
and see our apples.” 

Mr. Kendall came, saw, ate and approv- 
ed to the entire satisfaction of the boys. 
He discussed with them the best method 
of disposing of the apples, and the best 
place for skating when the money should 
have been earned, the desired purchase 
made and the creek frozen. Then he 
turned to Kezzie : 

“Shall you have an hour to spare this 
afternoon ? My mother is wishing for a 
talk with you. She wants your counsel 


A LONG, BRIGHT DAY. 


285 


and assistance in some project she has in 
view, but she did not feel quite strong 
enough to come to you to-day. So, if 
Mohammed will kindly come to the moun- 
tain — 

With pleasure — when Mohammed shall 
have finished her baking, her dusting and 
a few other occupations,” laughed Kezzie. 
“ Maggie and I are exercising our genius 
in Aunt Nene’s absence, but I shall be free 
after dinner.” 

The boys followed their visitor to the gate. 
He was a great favorite with them, and an 
authority on a great many matters of boy- 
ish interest. Kezzie watched them well pleas- 
ed. Mr. Kendall’s influence was strong over 
Sydney also, steadying, softening, and help- 
ing in many ways. 

'T like him because he is not always watch- 
ing and guarding himself in an uneasy way, 
as if he feared he might do something un- 
becoming a Christian man, or as if somebody 
might think he did. He is a Christian 
through and through, and so he can’t 
help acting like one in a free, natural, hap- 
py way,” Sydney said. I don’t believe he 


286 


TANGLES AND CORNERS. 


has any more fear of being mistaken for 
anything else than I have of any one 
mistaking me for a Chinaman. It’s the 
being he is concerned about, not the seem- 
ing. He never tries to make good talk : 
he just speaks about such things easily 
and earnestly because his heart is really 
in them. Religion isn’t a cloak that he is 
afraid any high wind may blow off: it’s Kis 
life ; and that’s what I like about him — the 
realness.” 

Kezzie felt more at rest about the boys — 
more at rest in many ways. Altogether, 
this was a beautiful world to Kezzie that 
day, and its peace and beauty were grow- 
ing more and more into her home and 
life, she thought. “So many things have 
grown clear and bright in this last year,” 
she said, as she walked along the quiet 
country road : it could scarcely be called 
a street, even though the village claimed 
it. 

“Excuse my sending for you, my dear, 
instead of coming to see you,” said Mrs. 
Kendall, seating her guest in the bright 
little room that always looked to Kezzie 


A LONG, BRIGHT DAY. 287 

the perfection of home comfort and cheer- 
fulness ; “ but I am growing to be an old 
woman now, and walking tires me more 
than it once did, I find.” 

“Not old,” protested Kezzie, affectionate- 
ly — “ not old ; but the younger feet and 
hands are gladly at your service, dear Mrs. 
Kendall.” 

The bright eyes under the gray hair 
smiled : 

“ I was sure of that. Ever since we 
came here I have wished to have our 
people better acquainted and more at home 
here in the parsonage. Some of them, 
indeed, have never been here at all. I do 
not mean just the people of the village, 
but all those on the hillside beyond that 
Robert looks on as a part of his parish. 
Some attend our church regularly, some 
rarely, but those who never come have no 
other church connection. I wish we could 
draw them more closely together in feeling 
and interest, and I have been trying to plan 
some way of gathering them here at the 
parsonage for an evening. I want to have 
a reception and a simple entertainment that 


288 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

shall include all, and make them enjoy them- 
selves and one another when they are here. 
But I am very much afraid that it will be a 
difficult task to accomplish with elements 
so diverse.” 

“ Some of them are so odd !” laughed 
Kezzie, recalling some experiences of her 
own. “ I had two callers this week — two 
girls who really came expressly for a call 
from some distance out of the village. They 
walked the whole way in their bare feet to 
save their shoes, and stopped at the corner 
of our garden-fence to put them on before 
they came in. Guy saw them. Still,” she 
added, after a moment’s pause, “ they were 
very neatly dressed when they did come in ; 
and if some of their remarks were funny, the 
conversation was not so silly as I have known 
that of more fashionable callers to be. They 
made no pretence to being anything but what 
they really were, and they were eager to learn 
about many things that they did not know. If 
they were ignorant about some things, they 
were wise about many that I am ignorant of 
— I learned that ; and if they were rather 
uncouth, they certainly were not rude. I 


A LONG, BRIGHT DAY. 289 

believe they intended a real kindness in 
coming.” 

Again the eyes of the elder lady smiled 
as they scanned the girl’s earnest face : 

“Undoubtedly they did, my dear, and I 
am glad their kindness met recognition. It 
is so easy to notice only the oddities of garb 
and speech, and find in them food for mirth, 
without appreciating what lies beneath. Life 
is a hard struggle for many, and all around 
us are men and women whom we call ordi- 
nary and commonplace who are silently do- 
ing their best, carrying heavy burdens pa- 
tiently and fighting fierce battles bravely. 
We do not know the secret of the peculiari- 
ties that often seem to us so absurd. If we 
could trace their history, they might sudden- 
ly grow pathetic instead. We should find 
that some of them are but scars from hard- 
ly-won fields where we, perhaps, would not 
have had courage to stand at all. But I 
have wandered from my planning,” she 
added. 

The conversation again turned to its 
main object, and how to invite, how and 
what to provide in the way of refreshqients, 

19 


290 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

suitable but not elaborate, and various means 
of making the evening pass pleasantly to a 
company of such different ages and tastes, 
were points discussed at length. 

“ For I want them all, old and young,” 
repeated Mrs. Kendall. “And the children 
of the Sabbath-school. Robert is very 
anxious to be a pastor to the Sabbath- 
school as well as to the church.” 

“The little folks will be sure to enjoy 
themselves wherever there are enough of 
them to play together. They might wan- 
der off into that large room up stairs and 
have as many games as they like,” sug- 
gested Kezzie. 

“That is a good idea; and if you will 
instruct your young people at home to 
take a little oversight and direction of 
that part of the programme, I think it 
can be made very successful.” 

“ They will be only too willing,” laughed 
Kezzie ; “ and I will promise to take a 
little oversight of them also, which may 
be necessary.” 

“About the invitations,” pursued Mrs. 
Kendall. “A general one can be given 


A LONG, BRIGHT DAY. 


291 


in the church to the whole congregation. 
Still, that will leave out many who will 
not be there to hear it, and to whom no 
one will be likely to give the information ; 
and it is some of that very class whom I 
am most anxious to reach.” 

“ Why not let the boys, Guy and Jimmie, 
carry special invitations to some such fami- 
lies ?” asked Kezzie. “ Mr. Kendall can 
write down the names and direct them 
where to go ; for verbal invitations will be 
better than more formal ones, I suppose. 
The boys will be delighted to spend their 
Saturday holiday in an exploring expedi- 
tion among the hills.” 

“ Thank you ; that will do nicely if the 
boys are willing. You see my wisdom in 
pressing you into service as my lieuten- 
ant ?” Mrs. Kendall answered. “I shall 
have to depend much , upon you in all my 
arrangements, and especially for making 
the evening pass pleasantly and success- 
fully when it comes.” 

There were so many different items to 
consider and arrange that the time slipped 
away rapidly, and the chiming of a little 


292 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

clock in the sitting-room made Kezzie 
start to her feet with an exclamation at 
the lateness of the hour. But Mr. Ken- 
dall had already come in, and they insis- 
ted upon her remaining to their early tea 
before she went home to superintend 
the later one in Maggie’s charge. 

The delicate old china, the pretty, quaint- 
ly-fashioned silver, handed down through 
three generations, had a great charm for 
Kezzie, and lent to the tea and the muffins 
a rare fragrance and flavor that no new 
service could have imparted. The room, 
too, among its more modern belongings, 
possessed some pieces of antique furni- 
ture which harmonized the whole picture ; 
while a certain softened stateliness about 
Mrs. Kendall herself, with her gray hair, 
her plain dark dress and snowy laces, 
seemed exactly suited to her surroundings, 
the young girl thought. She glanced 
down half ruefully at her own looped and 
ruffled drapery, with an amused dismayed 
fancy of looking like a nineteenth-century 
intruder in a lovely old-time painting. 

The elder lady could not have guessed 


A LONG, BRIGHT DAY, 


293 


her thoughts, but it was just then that she 
said, 

“ I am glad you live so near. It is very 
pleasant to have you with us, my dear.” 

And, whatever Mr. Kendall’s glance ex- 
pressed, it assuredly was not dissent. He 
walked homeward with Kezzie by the short- 
er route through the grove and down by 
the brookside. Not so very short, after 
all, because of sundry divergences in favor 
of brilliant leaved and beautiful mosses, 
with bits of earnest conversation when the 
footsteps unconsciously loitered. Every 
tint of wood, hill and sky seemed perfect 
in the soft sunset light, and the wind — 
only a gentle rustle and whisper from the 
hills — was cool and sweet. 

“ It has been a perfect day,” Kezzie said 
to herself as, throwing a light shawl around 
her, she seated herself on the piazza to 
watch for Aunt Nene. 

They had delayed supper for her coming, 
but it was time for the arrival of the train 
now; and Sydney had gone to meet her. 
Inside, the fire flickered and danced in the 
invalid mother’s room and shone out 


294 TAA^GLES AND CORNERS. 

through the open window, Outside, the 
yellow autumn moon was rising, and the 
children, in the doorway, were comparing 
their views of its apparent size — whether 
it “ looked large as a saucer or as a cart- 
wheel.” 

“Which does it look to you, Kezzie?” 

“ I can scarcely tell. After we know what 
a thing is it is hard to judge it with our eyes 
apart from our brain,” she answered, return- 
ing a little reluctantly -from her musing. 
“ But it looks very near and bright to- 
night.” 

All the beauty of the universe looked 
very near and bright that night. The 
whistle had sounded at the station, and 
in a few minutes Aunt Nene appeared at 
the gate, and Sydney with her, carrying 
her parcels. These last were not numer- 
ous, however, as he carried them in and 
deposited them upon a sofa, nor apparently 
very important, for a whole day’s shopping. 

“Well, auntie, did you find that very 
particular and not-to-be-selected-by-deputy 
gown ?” questioned Sydney, merrily, as they 
gathered about the table. 


A LONG, BRIGHT DAY. 


295 


* I didn’t get any dress, child. Why should 
I ? I have all I want now. I bought some 
yarn for the children’s stockings.” She 
looked up quickly at Kezzie. “ Warm 
home-knit ones will be better for them ; 
out here, in the winter, they will need 
them : I had thought of that, — And the 
ribbon you sent for, Kezzie, I got that, 
and the handkerchiefs, and some calico 
for comfortables.” 

“ Why, auntie, we have so many of those 
now — a large supply for more than this 
winter. Surely — ” 

“ But they won’t last always,” interposed 
Aunt Nene, “and I have* always made them 
all myself. They can be laid away, and 
they will keep until they are wanted,” 

Kezzie was silent, but somewhat puz- 
zled. There really seemed to have been 
no pressing errand in town. A little later, 
when she had forgotten her wonder again, 
she asked: 

“Are they all well at Celia’s? You were 
there for dinner, of course, auntie? Wasn’t 
she surprised?” 

“I — did not see Celia.” 


296 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

Not at home ? That was too bad. The 
very first time you have been there since 
we came away, too,” said Sydney, arous- 
ing into sympathy for Aunt Nene’s disap- 
pointment, though he would not, for him- 
self, have considered such an occurrence 
any cause for condolence. 

“I did not go there.” Aunt Nene spoke 
slowly. ‘T was too far up town at their 
dinner-hour, and afterward I was busy — 
one way and another. I meant to have 
gone before I came home, but I did not.” 

Even Mr. Driscoll’s look expressed a 
faint wonderment for a moment, but no 
one asked any more questions. 

The “ one way and another ” had proved 
wearisome, for Aunt Nene looked tired 
and a trifle less bright and alert than 
usual. 

“ It is good to be at home again,” she 
remarked, looking around on the familiar 
objects and faces as if their presence dis- 
pelled some pain. “ It was lonely in town, 
or it seemed so to-day. I do not think I 
shall go there again — not for a long time.” 

She must be very tired, Kezzie mentally 


A LONG, BRIGHT DAY. 297 

concluded, for a few minutes later she said 
once more, with a little sigh, “ I am so glad 
to get home !” She quite forgot to ask, 
until she was reminded of it, concerning 
the baking which she had so unceremoni- 
ously abandoned to other hands, and she 
listened rather abstractedly to the children’s 
story of their adventures and undertakings 
during the day, and their surprising plans 
for wealth from the sale of apples. But 
later, when lights and books and all the 
cheerful evening occupations made the 
room bright, her face regained its usual 
expression. She exhibited her few pur- 
chases, talked a little about them, and, 
winding one of the skeins of yarn from 
Lottie’s hands, settled herself quietly, but 
very industriously, to the proposed knit- 
ting. 

So the strange journey to town — strange 
only because it was Aunt Nene’s — faded 
out of mind. Kezzie -had forgotten it by 
the time she had finished an interesting 
book, for the conclusion of which the chil- 
dren had been allowed to sit up a little 
later than usual. Then her mother was 


298 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

to be made comfortable for the night, and 
after that a tour of inspection through the 
lower part of the house was necessary, be- 
cause of Maggie’s propensity for leaving 
doors and windows unfastened. She was 
humming softly to herself as she accom- 
plished her round, and the words of her 
song were on her lips as she ascended 
the stairs : 


** My life lies in its golden glow : 

How can I keep from singing?” 

Aunt Nene’s door stood a little ajar ; it 
opened wider as she passed, and Aunt Nene 
stopped her : 

Come in, child. I wanted to tell you — 
I think it is better to tell you — about it.” 
Aunt Nene was standing as if she had 
waited for her coming, and she closed the 
door after Kezzie entered, but still re- 
mained standing, her hands on the back 
of a chair near her. “I went to see the 
doctor.” 

The doctor, auntie ?” Kezzie repeated 
the words in utter bewilderment. “ Who ? 
When ?” 


A LONG, BRIGHT DAY. 299 

Dr. Arnold, in town, to-day. I went 
for that.” 

But already the girl had recalled the day’s 
incidents, and something in the memory 
and in her aunt’s tone and manner smote 
her with a quick, blind fear of coming evil. 
What or to whom she did not even dimly 
conjecture, but her cheek suddenly paled ; 
and she placed her lamp upon the table 
with a hand that began to tremble: 

“What is it. Aunt Nene?” 

“ Don’t look frightened, child. It’s noth- 
ing to feel so very badly about — nothing 
new. It’s only what I’ve thought for a 
long time might be, and I’ve been pretty 
sure about it lately ; but I thought if I saw 
the doctor I’d know certainly, and whether 
there was anything to be done.” 

“And you have been ill. Aunt Nene? I 
didn’t know ; you never told me.” 

Kezzie faltered the sentences and stop- 
ped. It was all so incomprehensible still. 
She was not sure that she had caught the 
meaning of it at all. She had never 
thought of illness as connected with Aunt 
Nene. That wiry, active figure, the busy 


300 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

brain and untiring hands, had always, 
within her memory, been very nearly what 
they were now, and in all these later weeks 
there had been no slacking or change. She 
could not understand it. 

“ There was nothing to tell,” Aunt Nene 
was answering. “ It was only this pain 
in my side — not steady, you know ; just 
coming by turns now and then, and gone 
again. I didn’t suspect what it was at 
first, and then it didn’t seem best to worry 
any one about it when I wasn’t sure. But 
the doctor said it was what I thought — 
something wrong with the heart. They 
both said so. I thought you might feel 
better satisfied if I consulted more than 
one, so I went to Dr. Liddy also.” 

“And they told you what you are to do ? 
They—” 

“ They said there was nothing to be done, 
only to be careful. It might not trouble me 
much more for a long time, or it might 
end suddenly any day. That is all. Not 
much more — not any more, indeed — than 
is true of all of us.” 

Aunt Nene’s voice grew strong and 


A LONG, BRIGHT DAY. 3OI 

cheery again, as if in relief that the 
tidings were told. 

“ I have told only you ; I knew I could 
trust you not to make any fuss about it, 
and I don’t want any. I just want to go 
about as usual. There is no reason why 
I shouldn’t — nothing else to do. Only, if 
some time I should say ‘Good-night’ and 
not be here to say ‘ Good- morning,’ I 
wanted you to understand about it, and 
that I knew and did what I could, and that 
I trusted myself to Christ, living or dying, 
and was not afraid. I haven’t said much 
about this last — not as much as I ought. 
It has been a trust buried under rubbish 
for years. But I have thought more about 
such things lately, and some time, child, you 
may like to remember that you have help- 
ed me. That is all I wanted to tell you. 
It isn’t anything to worry about, because, 
as I said before, it is only what is true of 
any of us, after all. Good-night. No ; I 
don’t want you to stay with me, child ; why 
should I ? Don’t make me sorry I told you. 
Why, you see it really isn’t anything to 
worry about, don’t you ?” 


302 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

We cannot make our heaven here; God 
will not let us have it so. Kezzie realized 
it, shivering in the sudden gloom that end- 
ed this day which had been so sweet. Dear 
Aunt Nene ! How much she had been to them 
through all the years ! Kezzie had never 
thought how much until that night when, 
in her grief and dread, she began to under- 
stand what it would be to miss her. Strong, 
practical, energetic, always doing for others 
and never claiming any help for herself, she 
had seemed as steady and as common a 
blessing as the air or the sunshine — so com- 
mon, alas! as scarcely to be remembered 
as a blessing until the fear of deprivation 
taught the lesson. 

There are such in many households. We 
are full of solicitude for the delicate ones, 
anxious about the erring ones, fearful and 
watchful for the absent ones ; but there is 
one on whom everybody leans without think- 
ing of it, and about whom nobody is anx- 
ious, who is always well enough to nurse 
the sick and cheerful enough to encourage 
the desponding, who is always supposed, 
without any particular thought about it, to 


A LONG, BRIGHT DAY. 3O3 

be Strong, brave, safe and immortal, until 
unexpectedly — it is always unexpectedly — 
the place is vacant. Then we learn, in the 
surprise of our terrible pain, that this one 
has been to the household what the main- 
spring is to the watch. And we did not 
think it could break ! 

So Kezzie pondered, facing the strange, 
desolate dread, so new that she half dis- 
puted its existence, and yet so real that 
she could not argue herself into any doubt 
of its truth. Weary hours passed before 
she found even the partial forgetfulness 
of a troubled sleep. But morning came 
again — bright, glad morning — and when she 
ran down stairs, to find Aunt Nene cheery, 
brisk, clear of voice and steady of hand, as 
usual, busied, as usual, too, with all the com- 
mon daily interests, it seemed as if the gloom 
of the night had been but a dreary dream. 
It might be — it must be — but a far-off pos- 
sibility. She comforted herself with the 
thought that, after all, it was only, as Aunt 
Nene had said, “what was true of every 
one.” 

More dreamlike still it grew as the busy 


304 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

days and weeks went on in their olden fash- 
ion, bringing only ordinary changes. 

Aunt Nene did not refer to the matter 
again. She seemed to wish, after that one 
confidence, that it should drop out of sight 
and out of mind. Only there was an added 
carefulness in her showing Kezzie the many 
details of household matters, and an added 
tenderness in all Kezzie’s manner toward 
her aunt. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


AT SUNSET. 


YDNEY, coming home one evening, 



VsZy brought a letter from Tom. Tom 
was not a regular correspondent, nor a 
very satisfactory one, since the informa- 
tion his letters contained was so general 
and indefinite as to make the reader but 
little wiser concerning the writer’s doings 
or surroundings. This one was an im- 
provement, however, since it brought the 
welcome intelligence that he was still in 
the same place, and, as he expressed it, 
“working like a beaver.” Not a very in- 
dustrious beaver, perhaps: one could scarce- 
ly fancy Tom really hard at work. But, at 
least, he had retained his situation ; and that 
fact testified to some steadiness and perse- 
verance on his own part, and some satisfac- 
tion on the part of the company which em 
ployed him. 

20 306 


3o6 tangles and corners. 

“ On the whole, I like it as well as any- 
thing, I suppose, and I must do something,” 
Tom wrote. Fd rather be here than at' 
home, under the circumstances, for some 
good chance may turn up yet, though there 
are enough sharp eyes watching for, and 
greedy hands ready to snatch at, anything 
that offers in any direction. This isn’t a 
country to go to sleep in. I mean to leave 
for a little while about Christmas-time and 
come home to see how you are all getting 
on. Wish I was well enough ahead to be 
of some use to you, but so far I haven’t 
been able to do much more than keep 
myself comfortably afloat.” 

Kezzie folded the letter with a sigh and 
a smile. Tom was — Tom. The words he 
had carelessly used were well chosen. He 
always wanted to float and be comfortable 
first of all things; swimming against the 
current and uncomfortable things never 
formed a part of his plan. However, the 
present was in many respects an improve- 
ment on the past. 

Kezzie half chided her own dissatisfied 
thought. If there were many things she 


AT SUNSET. 


307 


wanted to ask about his circumstances, 
Christmas was not far away. Whether 
Tom were communicative or not, she could 
see and judge for herself then. She was 
glad he was coming home. 

“ Now, if you are through with the elder 
brother, ma’am,” said Sydney, breaking the 
silence that followed her voice — she had 
read the letter aloud to Aunt Nene — “you 
may bestow a little attention upon the 
younger one. I too am going to seek my 
fortune.” 

“ Meaning your handkerchief? or your 
hat? Or is it your slippers that are miss- 
ing now ?” laughed Kezzie. Sydney’s pos- 
sessions had a fashion of disappearing 
mysteriously from the spot in which he 
was sure he had left them. 

“ No, ma’am ; you won’t be bothered in 
that way much longer. I really mean 
going to seek my fortune — going into 
business,” declared Sydney, smilingly, yet 
seriously. “What else did you expect? 
I had nearly finished my academy course 
when we came here, you know. There 
were only three weeks more of the term, 


3o8 tangles and corners. 

and those I gave up because father needed 
my help.” 

“Yes. You are already in business, I 
think,” said Kezzie. “ He needs your help 
at the mill.” 

“ He did, but he does not now. That was 
work that could last only two or three 
months while we were getting everything 
into running order. I really haven't been 
much needed there for several weeks 
now.” 

“But I thought — ” began Kezzie, and 
paused. She really did not know what 
she had thought ; certainly, not of Sydney’s 
going away. She might have foreseen 
what he had just told her, but she had 
not. 

“Well?” questioned Sydney, taking up 
her unfinished sentence. “You did not 
expect me to take up my studies again 
and go through college?” 

“I did not,” said Aunt Nene, decidedly, 
“because I don’t think your father could 
afford it.” 

“He said he would try to manage it 
some way if I really wished it and thought 


AT SUNSET. 


309 


it would be the best thing for me, but I 
wouldn’t have been selfish enough to have 
accepted the offer even if I had thought 
so; and I didn’t,” answered Sydney. “I 
don’t know what I might have done about 
a college course if circumstances had not 
changed, but I don’t believe I should have 
chosen a profession in any case. I haven’t 
a bit of lawyer or minister about me, and, 
as for doctor. I’ve a greater talent for 
breaking my own bones than for mending 
those of other people. I fell halfway 
down that crooked stairway to-day.” 

“ But, Sydney, you are telling us noth- 
ing,” exclaimed Kezzie, impatient in her 
anxiety. “ What is it you intend to 
do ?” 

“Go into Kirkendort’s wholesale house 
as assistant shipping-clerk,” responded Syd- 
ney, promptly and explicitly. “And a very 
good position it is, too, for a fellow of my 
years and acquirements.” 

“ But, Syd, it’s going away from home !” 

“Of course. You did not expect me to 
find anything to do in a little place like 
this ? Why, outside of our own Quinopeg 


310 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

Mill, there is nothing here but two stores 
and a blacksmith-shop, and then the farms.’* 

But Kezzie had expected nothing. What 
Sydney said was all true and reasonable, 
but, while he had pondered it many times, 
she had not thought of it. She wondered 
that she had not,, since it was only what she 
might have anticipated, but the thought of 
missing Sydney from all of the home that 
was life was too full of regret and dismay 
for her to discover immediately any cause 
for congratulation in his tidings. 

So he sat looking at her in some disap- 
pointment : 

“Why, it’s only in town, Kezzie, where 
I can come home every Saturday evening 
and stay until Monday morning — can come 
home any evening, in fact, if you need me 
or there is any particular reason for it. 
And don’t you see what a good chance this 
is for me ? Far better than I’d any reason 
to expect to begin with, I can tell you. 
And I shouldn’t have had it only for fa- 
ther’s acquaintance with the elder Kirken- 
dorf. — You know what a house theirs 
is. Aunt Nene?” 


AT SUNSET. 


3II 

Aunt Nene knew it well by reputation, 
and so did Kezzie. 

“And, since you must go somewhere, I 
suppose it is a very fortunate opening,” 
said the latter, a few minutes later. “I 
am glad it is no farther away.” 

“ So am I. And, as for the ‘ must ’ part 
of it, why, of course, I want to get into 
some business where I can do my best to 
help myself and to help father. I think I 
have been a boy about long enough, con- 
sidering how full his hands are, and I ought 
not to stay unless I can be of more use to 
him and to the family here than anywhere 
else ; and he says himself that I cannot.” 

“ When are you to go ?” asked practical 
Aunt Nene, with a view to possible sewing 
in the way of preparation. 

“ They want me next week. I only knew 
certainly about it this afternoon. Father 
had a letter.” 

“Then we must get all your clothes in 
order,” began Aunt Nene, mentally in- 
specting his wardrobe. 

But Sydney laughed : 

“You needn’t take any particular trou- 


312 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

ble about it, auntie. You can’t mend all 
the socks and sew on all the buttons once 
for all, and be rid of me. I shall be at 
home every few days, you know.” 

That was a consolation, and Kezzie be- 
gan to view the matter in its pleasanter 
and more auspicious aspects, and to sym- 
pathize with Sydney in his plans and an- 
ticipations. 

“ Oh ! Shall you board at Celia’s ?” she 
asked, with a sudden thought, later in the 
evening. 

Sydney made a comical grimace, but 
answered gravely: 

“ My dear sister Keziah, that is not to be 
thought of Celia lives entirely too far up 
town, ma’am.” 

“ Humph !” commented Guy from over 
his arithmetic lesson ; but there' was no 
other comment. 

After a moment, however, Sydney looked 
up, and, catching sight of Kezzie’s face, 
said, in a different tone, 

“ She does live too far up town, Kezzie. 
I shall neecj to be nearer the warehouse ; 
and, besides, I shall scarcely have time to 


AT SUNSET, 


313 


dine in such leisurely fashion as they do at 
Brother Meredith’s.” 

A remembrance of the brother and cou- 
sins at Marion’s — “ the boys ” and their 
boarding-houses — came to Kezzie. She 
was thankful that Sydney could spend his 
Sundays at home. But, notwithstanding 
all the advantages of the position, when the 
week had rolled around, and he was really 
gone, the sister keenly felt the disadvan- 
tages of the change as she walked home 
alone from the station. It was well for her 
cheerfulness that Lottie met her at the 
door with the announcement : 

“ Mrs. Kendall has come to spend the 
afternoon with you, Kezzie — with you and 
Aunt Nene and mamma. Mamma is sit- 
ting up in her easy-chair.” 

And Mrs. Kendall had brought some 
Sabbath-school and parish missionary plans 
to discuss for the benefit of Aunt Nene’s 
common-sense counsel — Aunt Nene could 
talk of such things, it seemed, and be in- 
terested in them, too — and for Kezzie’s 
ready help. So Kezzie again took up her 
work, whispering to her soul, with all its 


314 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

longings and regrettings, the command to 
be faithful and patient : 

Go back to thy garden-plat, sweetheart, 

Go back till the evening falls.” 

There was no lack of work in her own 
home, or out of it — useful, healthful work 
that filled both hands and heart. It remind- 
ed her sometimes of her first Sunday-school 
class and the remark of the unknown black- 
eyed girl: “I don’t see but this is just as 
much a command to work all the week as 
it is not to work on the Sabbath.” The 
young teacher had learned since then that 
there could be no really satisfactory “ keep- 
ing” of the seventh day except by also 
keeping the preceding six righteously and 
honestly in their appointed way. 

As the Christmas-time approached, the 
family began to look forward and plan for 
its celebration — even more than usual, Kez- 
zie thought, partly, doubtless, because there 
was more need for planning now than in 
the old days of careless expenditure, but 
also for a variety of other reasons. Tom 
was coming home, and Celia had written 


AT SUNSET. 


315 


that they intended coming out to spend the 
day quietly with them. She seemed, to 
speak of it as rather a mournful duty, and 
to anticipate it as an occasion of regretful 
remembrance and mourning over departed 
prosperity. 

Kezzie had determined that it should be 
nothing of the kind, and she exerted her- 
self to the utmost to make the old house 
as bright and cheerful as possible. Pictures 
and curtains were rehung and rearranged, 
and every room placed in its prettiest and 
daintiest order. The gifts prepared were 
simple and less costly than they had been 
in other years, but they embodied far more 
of loving thought and unselfish, affectionate 
effort than had ever before been bestowed 
upon them. 

The rambling old country house was 
more truly a home than the commodious 
mansion had ever been. But neither 
wealth nor poverty could have wrought 
that effect : it was the working of a new 
spirit. Whatever drew the family life 
nearer to Christ must perforce draw its 
members into closer, tenderer relationship 


3i6 tangles and corners. 

to one another. The children did not think 
of that, surely, nor even consider, in all 
their busy working and planning, that 
there was a community of interest now 
where each had been wont to go his sepa- 
rate way; but Kezzie noticed the difference. 
Even she did not attempt to analyze it, 
she only felt it; and her eyes filled with 
grateful tears as she hung the Christmas 
motto : 

bt mta 60b 

|0t ttns^takabk ®ift. 

With the boys and Lottie she had search- 
ed the woods and hillsides for evergreens 
and bright berries, and twined wreaths to 
decorate windows and doorways. Fires 
glowed in the open grates and filled the 
wide old rooms with a brightness and 
warmth that contrasted cheerily with the 
cold white world without, where a mantle 
of snow had fallen, and so made it, as Lottie 
said, “just what Christmas ought to be.’' 

Tom had arrived the day before. Broad- 
er-shouldered than of old, sun-browned and 
bearded, he had lost his delicate complex- 


AT SUNSET. 


317 


ion, the fastidious elaborateness of his toilet, 
and also, in a measure, the languid, loitering 
manner, the gentleman-of-leisure air which 
had characterized him at home, and upon 
which, indeed, he had prided himself. He 
considered the enterprise and the activity 
of the Territories, however, far superior to 
the customs and the usages of his native 
place : 

“ From a business point of view, that is. 
Of course I am not speaking of civilization, 
refinement, and that sort of thing. But 
there are no slow, poky ways of undertak- 
ing anything out there. When a thing is 
to be done, they do it. We wanted a new 
church in our place, and we raised the 
money for it — a handsome one, too — in 
just three days.” 

“‘We’?” Sydney questioned, somewhat 
wonderingly. 

“ Yes, sir, we. I gave what I could.” 
Tom turned full upon him. “I tell you, 
young man, if you want the strongest 
arguments in favor of churches and Sab- 
bath-keeping that you ever found yet, just 
go out to some of the new places in the 


3i8 tangles and corners. 

Territories, where all that kind of thing is 
left behind, and live there for a little while. 
It is just a mad rush from one month’s end 
to another, with no slackening-up time for 
rest or sober thought until the people are 
perfectly drunk with the whirl. In some of 
those places neither property nor life was 
safe, and they couldn’t get or enforce a law 
that would make them so, until some of the 
leading citizens — and they were as far as 
possible from being saints, I assure you — 
declared that the only hope of civilization 
for the town, the only way of making it de- 
cent and orderly enough to induce immigra- 
tion and to sell off its town-lots, was to build 
a church and get somebody there to hold 
meetings and preach to the people on Sun- 
days. And it is really a fact that some of 
the roughest, hardest-drinking, most profane 
fellows of the place contributed the largest 
sums for that very purpose — did it just as 
a matter of property and life insurance.” 

“ My dear Tom, do be careful how you 
talk before the children,” remonstrated Celia, 
in dignified disapproval of such vehemence. 

You used to be far more particular in your 


AT SUNSET 


319 


language. Arizona certainly has not im- 
proved you.” 

“ I think it has,” said his father^ quietly. 

The remark would scarcely have been no- 
ticed from another, but Mr. Driscoll’s words, 
like those of most habitually silent people, 
seemed always to convey a well-pondered 
meaning. He did not explain his opinion, 
but Kezzie secretly agreed with it. Tom 
was not what she wished him to be — not 
what she hoped he yet would be ; but her 
heart had grown lighter and more hopeful 
since she had seen him. 

On the whole, it was not an inharmonious 
family gathering. If separation had not 
smoothed away the sharp points of differ- 
ence, they at least were not brought prom- 
inently into view in this brief reunion. 
Kezzie exerted herself to the utmost to 
secure this result, and Sydney observed 
and seconded her efforts. 

It was not the subdued and sombre oc- 
casion that Celia had anticipated. Though 
she wondered that Kezzie could be so child- 
ishly thoughtless as not to comprehend more 
fully what advantages they had lost, she did 


320 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

not insist upon carrying out the programme 
of retrospection and condolence which she 
had thought called for and proper. Instead 
of this, she graciously consented, when din- 
ner was over, to be seated at the piano and 
play for the general entertainment. And in 
certain styles of music — not those requiring 
tenderness or subtle heart-interpreting — 
Celia was no mean performer. 

“ Now,” said Jimmie, after a time, when 
she turned partly away from the instru- 
ment, play something else — something 
with words to it that we all can sing.” 

But that was quite out of Celia’s prov- 
ince. She had never played for the chil- 
dren in her life. 

“ I did not know ‘ we all ’ could sing,” she 
said, with the slightest possible arching of 
her eyebrows. 

“ It is only some simple music that I play 
for them,” explained Kezzie, smiling, but 
flushing a little — “some of our Sunday- 
school hymns.” 

“ But I like them, my dear,” said her 
father. “Let us have some of them — if 
your sister is tired.” 


AT SUNSET. 


321 


The children gathered around Kezzie as 
she took her seat, and Sydney came and 
stood beside her. At the close of the 
second verse Tom’s bass and Mr. Mere- 
dith’s tenor became audible in the chorus, 
and presently Celia joined^the group at 
the piano. 

Kezzie’s heart swelled as she heard the 
loved voices, even her father’s, mingling in 
the words: 


“ I will sing of my Redeemer : 

With his blood he purchased me ; 

On the cross he sealed my pardon. 

Paid the debt and made me free.” 

Mrs. Driscoll lay on a lounge near the 
fire. Aunt Nene occupied a cozy chair by 
the window. She had brought her knit- 
ting — from mere force of habit, it seemed, 
for she had dropped it idly in her lap 
and was listening and enjoying without 
attempting to work. Hymn after hymn 
was sung as the children recalled their 
favorites, until at last Kezzie’s overfull 
heart suggested the Doxology — because 
of all the associations of the day, because 
of this most truly family gathering that 
21 


322 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

they had ever known, because of mercies 
and hopes unnumbered: 

“ Praise God, from whom all blessings flow.” 

“Wasn’t that a concert!” said Sydney 
as Kezzie turned from the instrument. 
“We have sung Aunt Nene to sleep, I 
declare I See ?” 

Kezzie turned with a quick, startled 
look : 

“Aunt Nene! Aunt Nene!” 

But Aunt Nene had answered to another 
call and was away. The last slant rays of the 
setting sun streamed in through the open 
window and touched her gray head, but 
no shadow of earthly night could ever fall 
on her again. For her the long, bright 
day had begun. 


CHAPTER XV. 


WHEN LOTTIE IS A LITTLE OLDER. 

ITH the folding of those useful, tire- 



less hands there came to Kezzie’s 


an added weight of work and care. Of- 
tentimes in those earlier weeks the burden 
seemed too heavy to be borne. For direc- 
tion in uncertainty, for help in perplexity, 
she was constantly turning to hear the 
familiar voice and meeting only the strange, 
awful silence. It had come so suddenly — 
one day, the active, helpful presence, busy 
and interested in all the common house- 
hold ways ; the next, the vacant place — 
that she could not realize it. More than 
once, with intelligence or question on her 
lips, she ran up to that closed door, only to 
remember as she touched it that there was 
no one to answer, to shrink back trem- 
blingly at its desolateness and to pass 
on to her own room with the bitter cry: 


323 


324 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

''Oh, Aunt Nene, I cannot, cannot do 
without you !” 

We may not lean too heavily on any 
human arm: he who is himself his peo- 
ple’s strength will not have it so. But as 
time passed, softening the first sore be- 
reavement, Kezzie, looking back, could see 
now that more than one blessing had ger- 
minated in this soil of grief, and grown 
from it to gladden her life and that of 
others. 

The children, brought for the first time 
face to face with the mystery of death, 
were sobered and subdued. A long ill- 
ness, a slow fading away, would not have 
appealed to them as did this swift, unex- 
pected stepping out of the midst of eager, 
busy life into the world unknown. For 
the first time heaven became to them a real 
place — "where Aunt Nene has gone.” For 
the first time they began to ask earnest, 
interested questions concerning it. There 
were serious, quiet twilight talks with Kez- 
zie that never afterward wholly lost their 
influence. All that winter they were gen- 
tler and more thoughtful, more ready to 


WHEN LOTTIE IS A LITTLE OLDER. 325 

yield to her wishes as they saw her trying 
to fill a double place, more helpful in their 
sympathy with her loss. 

To Mrs. Driscoll the shock and the sur- 
- prise were overwhelming. She had been 
so long an invalid, so long accustomed to 
regard her own life as the one threatened 
at every point, and the one to be guarded 
with zealous care, that she had wellnigh 
forgotten that others possessed no immu- 
nity from danger or from death. 

“To think that Nene should have gone, 
while I am left!’' she repeated again and 
again. “ I cannot understand it ; I cannot 
realize it. She has been so full of health 
and strength all these years.” 

The invalid had ample leisure to think 
of these years, and their memory busied 
many a solitary hour — more solitary now * 
than ever before — recalling the long un- 
selfish service, the patient, scarcely-recog- 
nized devotion of Nene’s life to her broth- 
er’s family. In the earlier years of her wife- 
hood, when she was a gay and courted mem- 
ber of society, Mrs. Driscoll had probably 
considered her plain, matter-of-fact sister-in- 


326 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

law, with her homely ways and her unfash- 
ionable predilections, as a somewhat inferior 
person ; “ Useful, sensible and practical, of 
course, but without the least pretension to 
style, or much idea of what is expected of 
one nowadays.” She had been carelessly 
content to drop the housewifely cares, dis- 
tasteful to herself, into Nene’s capable hands, 
and had been condescendingly gracious in 
her appreciation of her skill. But afterward, 
when her health failed and she became a con- 
firmed invalid, the oversight and care of all 
household matters devolved naturally and 
wholly upon Nene. Mrs. Driscoll thought 
no more about it; she was fully occupied in 
caring for herself. That Nene should take 
charge of everything, and that the wheels 
of domestic machinery should roll smooth- 
ly on, seemed such a matter of course that 
it scarcely received more consideration than 
the fact that the kitchen-range worked well 
or that the gas lighted the rooms at night. 

Something of all this Mrs. Driscoll saw in 
retrospect, and she now began to compre- 
hend that the long years were ended. 

I fear we did not think how much she 


WHEN LOTTIE IS A LITTLE OLDER. 327 

was doing for us all/' she said, with a sigh, 
to Kezzie, one day. “ It was so natural to 
have everything around me in just such 
order day by day that I scarcely thought 
how it came so. But things will not do 
themselves.” 

“They will not do themselves, and oh, 
I do not know what to do without her! 
She was so much to me,” answered poor 
tired Kezzie, her voice breaking in a sob. 

The mother looked wistfully at the head 
bowed in the firelight. A faint jealousy — 
a jealousy of the dead which she had never 
had of the living — stirred in her heart. 

“ She has been to you nearly all you have 
ever known of a mother,” she said. “ The 
real mother could have been spared far 
better.” 

“ Do not say that, mamma,” Kezzie an- 
swered, in pained surprise. 

Yet she could not deny its truth. Mrs. 
Driscoll’s motherhood had been to her chil- 
dren nothing but a name. Until very re- 
cently her presence in the house had been 
to the younger ones merely a reason for 
checking their laughter on the stairs and 


328 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

in the hall, and for preferring to play out 
of doors. In the new home she had been 
with them more, and, seeing more of them, 
had seen also what Aunt Nene was to them 
all. Yet it was only now, in seeing how 
they missed her, that she comprehended or 
thought of it for the first time. 

Kezzie was putting some work away and 
rearranging the contents of a basket, and in 
doing so brought to view an unfinished stock- 
ing with the needles still in it. It was this 
new feeling, a new impulse, that prompted 
Mrs. Driscoll to reach out her hand and 
take it. 

“I wonder,” she said, after a moment, 
smoothing the soft bright wool, “ whether 
I could finish it?” 

“ Why, mamma !” exclaimed Kezzie, look- 
ing around in astonishment. Since her child- 
hood she had never known of her mother’s 
doing or attempting to do any work what- 
ever. 

“I used to know something about knitting 
a long time ago,” pursued Mrs. Driscoll, mus- 
ingly. Maybe I could pick it up again. I 
believe I’d like to do it if I could.” 


WHEN LOTTIE IS A LITTLE OLDER. 329 

Kezzie watched her in silent wonderment 
while the delicate white hands slowly took 
up the stitches. 

But, mamma, won’t it tire you or make 
you sick ?” she presently remonstrated. 

“ I shall not do much at once ; I cannot. 
•But if I could finish it a little at a time — 
I’d like to do something for somebody.” 

The boys came in and found her on the 
lounge with that work in her hands, knitting 
a few minutes and dropping it, but not lay- 
ing it aside. 

“Why, mamma!” said Jimmie, in out- 
spoken amazement. “ I don’t believe I ever 
saw you do any work in all my life be- 
fore.” 

It was only her own newly-awakened 
thought that gave the words the meaning 
they bore to her — the tone of sadness and 
reproach that Kezzie’s quickly-spoken an- 
swer did not wholly dispel : 

“ No ; poor mamma has been ill ever 
since you can remember, Jimmie. We 
shall all be glad if she is growing stronger 
in this country air, as I really think she 
is.’' 


330 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

The needles, glittering in the firelight as 
they moved, and the bright yarn had a 
familiar look that pleased the children. 

“Now, if you’d stay here that way in 
the evening when we are reading, it would 
seem like — more like — ” began Guy, and 
paused. 

It was so very unlike that other presence, 
after all. 

But his mother understood the unfinished 
sentence, and because of it she preferred the 
lounge in the sitting-room to her own room 
that evening. The effort benefited her, for 
she did become interested in the reading and 
in the children’s eager enjoyment of it, and 
it pleased her to see that her remaining 
made the hour pleasanter to them. It was 
only a little thing, that conversation and 
the evening that followed, but afterward 
Kezzie saw in it the beginning of one of 
those changes that came so gradually and 
blessedly to the household life. 

The stockings were completed and laid 
aside, but the long-idle hands had found 
occasional employment restful, and other 
bits of light work were taken up — crochet- 


WHEN LOTTIE IS A LITTLE OLDER. 33 1 

ing, knitting, some trifle of sewing or mend- 
ing even — until the little basket that came 
to have an appropriated place beside lounge 
and easy-chair was seldom empty. Her iso- 
lated morbid life was in a great degree 
broken up. She mingled more with the 
others, and, becoming interested in their 
readings and conversations, became a 
sharer also in their plans and daily life. The 
change was healthful not only for heart 
and soul, but for mind and body as well. 
She gr^w stronger and happier. An in- 
valid she must always be, but she became 
a less helpless and more comfortable and 
cheerful one. 

God’s compensations are rich and full. 
In the four years that have scattered snows 
and blossoms over Aunt Nene’s quiet grave 
Kezzie has indeed known many cares, but 
she has reaped some sweet rewards: 


“ Love that giveth in full store 
Aye receives as much, and more.” 


And Kezzie’s “ boys ” — they have out- 
grown the title of children now-— do love 


332 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

and value her. Careless and thoiighdess 
in many ways, wounding and causing so- 
licitude often, but loving, respecting and 
for the most part guided by her still, her 
influence upon them has grown constantly 
more marked and strong. She has been 
wisely content to make it only influence, to 
study and plan, suggest and advise, draw- 
ing by a silken cord here, throwing out an 
invisible barrier there, not attempting an 
authority she did not possess, and which 
would be sure sooner or later to be rebel- 
led against and thrown down. It is prob- 
able they will never fully realize to whom 
they owe many of the principles and opin- 
ions they so promptly and boldly avow as 
their own. That matters nothing. The 
success of the work is its own exceeding 
great recompense, and “ the Master is near 
and knoweth all.” 

Between Sydney and herself there is a 
peculiarly tender bond of affection and con- 
fidence. Beginning in the old careless days, 
strengthened by his determination to walk 
the new way with her, it grew deeper and 
stronger when sorrow and bereavement 


WHEN LOTTIE IS A LITTLE OLDER. 333 

came. He more than any other knew 
what Aunt Nene was to Kezzie, and ap- 
preciated the burden that fell upon the 
young heart and hands when she died. 
His weekly visits home were full of thought- 
ful helpfulness. He studied, planned and 
sympathized with her, careful that his own 
new duties and interests should cause no 
forgetfulness on his part, no sense of de- 
sertion on hers. And the thought of her 
need of him, the effort to sustain and com- 
fort her, and their constant exchange of 
confidence and advice, were a great safe- 
guard and assistance to him, and helped 
and steadied him many a time in the pres- 
ence of what else might have been strong 
temptation. He has succeeded well in his 
chosen place — “ remarkably well,’' his father 
admits with a proud light in his eyes — and 
there is a fair chance for his speedy pro- 
motion. 

Lottie has grown into a bright, sweet- 
tempered, sprightly girl brimming with 
vitality, and with no lack of confidence in 
her own ability. She is learning to share 
some of the burdens — “divide the honors,” 


334 TANGLES AND CORNERS. 

she says — and mischievously styles herself 
“the heiress-apparent to the throne, as the 
queen is soon to abdicate.” It is under- 
stood, indeed — at least Mr. Kendall and 
Kezzie understand — that the latter is to 
accept a new and larger province when 
Lottie is a little older, so that the reins of 
the government at home may be safely 
trusted to her hands. 

One comfort about such planning is that 
the two homes are near together. 

“ I do not know how I could bear to have 
you go far away from us, my daughter,” 
Mr. Driscoll said, in his grave, quiet way 
that meant so much more than the simple 
sentence expressed. 

Those few words from him are more 
than voluble praises and blessings from 
another. He has grown a little grayer and 
a little more silent than of old, perhaps, 
but his face has lost its worn, harassed 
look, and there is a peace upon it that 
shines from within. Of the experiences, 
the struggles, the sorrows, through which 
this has come to him he says little, as of 
everything concerning himself ; but his 


WHEN LOTTIE IS A LITTLE OLDER. 33$ 

life, earnest, steadfast, faithful, growing 
more and more in kindliness toward man, 
in trustful reverence toward God, shows 
its source. 

The tangles are not all smoothed out, 
the corners not all rounded, though we 
here end our record of Kezzie’s story. 

But, whatever the future may hold, her 
life can be no failure, since, whether in 
storm or in sunshine, it is slowly, steadily 
building upon the one sure foundation, 
‘‘Jesus Christ himself being the chief 
corner-stone.'' 


THE END. 


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